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Updated: June 21, 2025
Barstow, and that if he could feel that kind, warm grasp again, an impulse might be given him which even Mrs. Arnot's wise and gentle words could not inspire. Before the week was over he felt that something must be done either to soften his hard lot or to give him strength to endure it.
When you have succeeded, return home, and think of me as well as you can until I make you think better," and he raised and kissed her with something like tenderness, and then placed within Mrs. Arnot's arm the hand of the poor weak woman, who had become so faint and exhausted from her conflicting emotions that she submitted to be led away after a feeble remonstrance. Mrs. Arnot sent Mr.
A gentleman connected with the church gave Laura the position of saleswoman in his bookstore, and to Mrs. Arnot's little suburban cottage of only three rooms kind and interested ladies brought sewing and fancy-work. Thus they were provided for, as God's people ever are in some way. Mrs.
His factotum was in mortal trepidation, for in coming across town he had eagerly bought the morning "Courier," and his complacent sense of security at having withheld his name from the "oncivil iditer" vanished utterly as he read the words, "an intelligent Irishman in Mr. Arnot's employ."
As he spoke of his last fierce blow, which vanquished his opponent, Mr. Growther muttered: "Sarved him right; can't help feelin' glad you hit 'im so hard; but then that's in keepin' with the cussedness of my natur'." A glimmer of a smile hovered around Mrs. Arnot's flexible mouth, but she only asked quietly: "Is that all?" "I should think that was enough, after all that I had felt and professed."
Arnot's eyes turned questioningly to her husband, and she saw that his face was dark with anger and disgust. "He is drunk," he said, turning to Pat, who stood in the door, cap in hand. "Faix, sur, it looks moighty loike it. But it's not for a dacent sober man loike meself to spake sartainly o' sich matters." "Few words and to the point, sir," said Mr.
Arnot's home. As a memory, however beautiful, she was too shadowy to disturb his peace. Would this be true if she had fulfilled all the rich promises of her girlhood, and he saw her often?
Arnot's words that nothing could excuse him from the sacred duties which he owed to her. As his fortunes improved and time elapsed without the advent of more disgraceful stories, she also began to respond as frequently and sympathetically as could be expected of one taking her views of life.
I propose to carry on my business in the way which experience has taught me is wise, and, with all respect to yourself, I would suggest that in these matters of business I am in my own province." The ashen hue deepened upon Mrs. Arnot's face, but she answered quietly: "I do not wish to overstep the bounds which should justly limit my action and my interest in this matter.
They sez some men has no bowels o' marcies; and after what I've seen the night, and afore the night, too, I kin belave that Boss Arnot's in'ards were cast at the same foundry where he gets his mash-shines.
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