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Updated: June 11, 2025
She then took Anabella by the hand, and led her along the road. The good old woman put her hand in her pocket, and pulled out a piece of nice plum-cake, which she gave to Anabella, who thankfully accepted of it; but her little heart was too full to permit her to think of eating at that time.
Hills on hills and Alps on Alps arise, and who shall mount the ultimate peak till all the world shall say, "Here reigns the Excellence"? I listen with pleasure to untutored Nancie till Anabella takes all the wind from her sails. I think the force of music can no further go than Madame Morlot, and, behold, Herr Driesbach has knocked out that underpinning.
Primrose was daintily shy and clung close to her brother, of which he was very proud, as she had never shown him quite such favor before. Anabella Morris was setting up for a young lady, being nearly two years older than Primrose. Mrs. Morris had taken a certain Captain Decker in her house to lodge, who seemed very devoted to her daughter.
And so it turned out that, while Anabella was gloating over the beautiful work of the timid embroideress, Balgarnie was busy admiring the artist, but not merely perhaps not at all as an artist, only as an object over whom he wished to exercise power.
Why must you be so regardful of her?" "Yes, she will have a nice sum, doubtless. I want her brought up to fit her station, which the Henrys, being strict Friends, would not do. Her mother appointed me her guardian, you know. I do nothing beside my duty. But if you do not care " "Oh, 'tis a real charity to offer it for Anabella, and I am glad to accept.
She had received a goodly supply of provisions from the farm, and the offer had been made for Anabella to share Primrose Henry's teachers with no extra charge. "You are very generous to the child," she said in a complaining tone. "I thought Philemon Henry was in excellent circumstances." "So he was." "And is not her guardian, the other one, a well-to-do Quaker?
A poor old woman, with eggs and butter in a basket, happened to be that day going to the same market, whither Anabella's mother was gone before her. Seeing Anabella in so much distress, still crying as if her little heart would break, she went up to her, and asked her what was the cause of those tears that fell from her little cheeks: She told her she had lost her mamma.
She therefore put it into her pocket, saying that she would eat it by and by, when she had found her mamma, which she hoped would be soon. As they walked along, the good old woman endeavoured to amuse Anabella by telling her pretty stories, and enquiring of her what books she read.
Nothing can be more natural and pleasing than to see young children fond of their parents. The birds of the air, and even the wild inhabitants of the forest, love and are beloved by their young progeny. Little Anabella was six years old, very fond of her mamma, and delighted in following her every where.
Yet she dies not unavenged, for Harriette sweeps down from the city, and immediately suspends the victorious Anabella from her aduncate nose, and carries all before her. Mysterious is the arrangement of the world. The last round of the ladder is not yet reached. To Madame Morlot, Harriette is a savage, une bete, without cultivation.
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