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Updated: July 20, 2025
She did not want to think about Martha's first cousin, who was engaged for thirty-two years to a journeyman tailor, and when they married at last, they were both so cross that she went out to service again at the end of a month. Charlotte set up all her caps with Tom's favourite colour, and 'turned Angelina' twenty times a-day.
It was bad enough, but not so bad as Angelina." "I should say it was more appropriate," said Alexander Abraham, intending, as I perceived, to be disagreeable. "Precisely," I agreed calmly. "My last name is MacPherson, and I live in Avonlea. As you are NOT curious, that will be all the information you will need about me." "Oh!" Alexander Abraham looked as if a light had broken in on him.
I feel so now." For several weeks after her return to Shrewsbury, Angelina tried to withdraw her mind from the subject which her sister thought was taking too strong hold on it, and interfering with her spiritual needs and exercises.
Angelina was leading a life of benevolent effort, too busy to admit of the pleasure of society, and her Quaker associations did not favor contact with the world's people, or promote knowledge of the active movements in the larger reforms of the day. As to Sarah, she was suffering keenly under a great sorrow of her life.
The milliner and Jesse now burst into uncontrollable, and, as Angelina feared, "unextinguishable laughter."
Angelina, writing of her brother's death, says: "The world has lost an eminent reformer in the cause of Christian education, an eloquent advocate of peace, and one who was remarkably ready for every good work. I never saw a man who combined such brilliant talents, such diversity and profundity of knowledge, with such humility of heart and such simplicity and gentleness of manner.
"Had not hur petter eat a hegg, and a pit of pacon? here's one pit left," said Betty: "hur must be hungry, for 'tis two o'clock past, and we preakfasted at nine hur must be hungry;" and Betty pressed her to try the pacon; but Angelina put it away, or, in the proper style, motioned the bacon from her.
"The mills of the gods grind slowly;" and perhaps it was all the better in the end, for the cause their advocated so grandly, that Sarah and Angelina Grimké should have gone through this long period of silence and repression, during which their moral and intellectual forces gathered power for the conflict the great work which both had so singularly and for so many years seen was before them, though its nature was for a long time hidden.
"And what's your name?" I ventured. "Mine? Oh, mine's Henrietta Manners; only," she added hastily "only that's my real name. I was born with it. Now most of the girls got theirs out of story-books. Georgiana Trevelyan and Goldy Courtleigh and Gladys Carringford and Angelina Lancaster and Phoebe Arlington them girls all got theirs out of stories. But mine's my own.
Angelina at three in the afternoon, fresh from rest and luncheon if both agree with her is wreathed in smiles at a little speech of Edwin's which would taste like sweet camomile tea after dry champagne, at three in the morning, when the Hungarian music is ringing madly in her ears and there are only two more waltzes on the programme.
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