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Miss Bolton's name was always among the lists we printed of the guests at the Entre Nous Card Club, the Imperial Dancing Club, the "Giddy Young Things" Club, the Art Club and the Shakespeare Club. But when she came to the office she was full of anxiety at the frivolity of society.

If haply he is able to read, his library will be a few lean sheepskin-clad volumes, such as Boston's Crook in the Lot, Fisher's Marrow of Modern Divinity, Brooks's Apples of Gold, Bolton's Saint's Enriching Examination, and Halyburton's Great Concern.

"I am dreadfully sorry," I said, "but I was thinking so hard I never thought of looking round. I have got some news for you." Her eyes sparkled. "What is it?" she cried. "Bolton's pocket book has been found among the rocks, and this was his last entry before he was killed." I handed her the book open at the place and watched her face as she read.

On the following day Hester was taken out to dinner at The Nurseries, as Robert Bolton's house was called, was taken out by her father. This was quite a new experiment, as she had never dined with any of her aunts and cousins except at an early dinner almost as a child, and even as a child not at her brother Robert's. But the banker, after having declared that she must go somewhere, had persisted.

Our children read more biography than would be supposed. That book that will tell them about a boy who, though poor and otherwise handicapped, struggled, overcame and became famous, appeals to them; therefore "Poor boys' chances" and Bolton's "Poor boys who became famous" are called for constantly.

Bolton's injuries might require. This invitation was thankfully accepted. During the night, Mr. Bolton suffered a great deal of pain, and in the morning, when the physicians arrived, it was found that his injured limb was much inflamed. Of course, a removal to the city was out of the question. The doctors declared that the attempt would be made at the risk of his life.

He had been twice married, and there now lived with him his second wife and a daughter, Hester, a girl about sixteen years of age at the period of John Caldigate's visit to Puritan Grange, as Mr. Bolton's house was called. At this time Puritan Grange was not badly named; for Mrs.

To part with a dollar was therefore ever felt as the giving up of a prospective good; and it acted as the abridgment of present happiness. Appeals to Mr. Bolton's benevolence had never been very successful; and, in giving, he had not experienced the blessing which belongs of right to good deeds. The absolute selfishness of his feelings wronged him of what was justly his due.

Without other words they hurried into the carriage, driving like mad for the cottage, a mile away; all the worn look gone from Ruth's face. "And you're not hurt, my boy?" asked Peter in a trembling voice Jack's well hand in his own. "No, only a few scratches, sir; that's all. Bolton's hand's in a bad way, though; lose two of his fingers, I'm afraid." "And how did you escape?" "I don't know.

As soon as they had got away from the door of Robert Bolton's house, the husband attempted to comfort his young wife. 'At any rate it is over, he said, alluding of course to the tedium of their wedding festivities. 'So much is over, she replied. 'You do not regret anything? She shook her head slowly as she leaned lovingly against his shoulder.