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But suppose they do not, Mr Catterall, is that my loss or theirs?" "Why couldn't you keep them?" said Ambrose. "At what cost?" was the Vicar's answer. "A little more music and rather less thunder," said Ambrose, laughing. "Give us back the anthem you have no idea how many have taken seats at All Saints' because of that. And do you know your discarded singers are there?"
"When the Angel Gabriel is sent to tell me, Mr Catterall, I shall be most happy to let you know. Until then, you must excuse my deciding a question on which I am entirely ignorant." Ambrose looked rather blank. "Well, then, Mr Liversedge, as to free-will. Do you think that every man can be saved, if he likes, or not?"
"Why, this about Fanny and Ambrose Catterall." "Oh, that! I wish there were nothing worse than that in this world." My Aunt Kezia spoke as if she would have preferred some other world, where things went straighter than they do in this. "Hatty said you were put out about it, Aunt." "That's all Hatty knows. I think 'tis a blunder, and Fanny will find it out, likely enough.
Richard Whalley obtained a grant of Welbeck from the King about 1539, and in succeeding generations others who held it were Osborne, Booth and Catterall, till it was purchased by Sir Charles Cavendish.
When I came into the parlour, I only found three of all the gentlemen in the house, Father, Mr Keith, and Ambrose Catterall. I thought Father seemed rather cross, and he was finding fault with everybody for something.
"Your sins and your Saviour," was the reply. "And till you have looked well at both those, Mr Catterall, and are sure that you have laid the sins upon the Sacrifice, it is as well not to look much at anything else." I think Ambrose found that he was in the corner this time, and just the kind of corner that he did not care to get in. At any rate, he said no more.
Beside him, and Ambrose Catterall, and Esther Langridge, we know no young people except our cousins. Father being Squire of Brocklebank, we cannot mix with the common folks. Old Mr Digby is the Vicar, and I do not think he is far short of a hundred years old. He is an old bachelor, and has nobody to keep his house but our Sam's mother, a Scotchwoman old Elspie they call her.
Every child does it, every day. You will be a long while in the dark, Mr Catterall, if you must know why a candle burns before you light it. Better be content to have the light, and work by it." "There are more sorts of light than one," said my Aunt Kezia. "That is the best light by which you see clearest," was the Vicar's answer. "What have you got to see?" asked Ambrose.
"Finish what off?" asked my Aunt Kezia. "My last night's headache," said he. "That tea must have come from Heaven, then, instead of China," replied she. "Nay, Ambrose Catterall; it will take blood to finish off the consequence of your doings last night." "Why, Mrs Kezia, are you going to fight me?" asked he, laughing.
"Don't send Ambrose Catterall away, there's a good Father!" says she: "there will be two of us old maids as it is." Father laughed, and pinched Hatty's ear. So I saw my gentlewoman had been thinking the same thing I had. But I don't think she ought to have said it out. Stay, now! Why should it be worse to say things than to think them? Is it as bad to think them as to say them?
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