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Updated: September 27, 2025
"If only we could do something for Cocksmoor!" she sighed, presently, "with that one hundred and fifty pounds lying idle." Margaret was very glad that her thoughts were taking this channel, but it was not a promising one, for there seemed to be nothing practicable, present or future. The ground could not be had the pig would not get over the stile the old woman could not get home to-night.
Averil had again left her bed, and resumed her place on the sofa before letters arrived. There was Leonard's from Cocksmoor Parsonage, the first real letter she had had from him since his term of servitude had begun.
May promised Margaret that he would see whether the black-hole of Cocksmoor was all that Norman depicted it, and, accordingly, he came home that way on Tuesday evening the next week, much to the astonishment of Richard, who was in the act of so mending the window that it might let in air when open, and keep it out when shut, neither of which purposes had it ever yet answered. Dr.
"Yes, I should think he would I hope he will. He must like you to have such a friend as Miss Rivers. How pretty she is!" "Now, Ethel, it is high time to dress. Pray make yourself look nice don't twist up your hair in that any-how fashion." Ethel sighed, then began talking fast about some hints on school-keeping which she had picked up for Cocksmoor.
I'll tell you what, he said, vindictively, as if gratified to have what must obey him, 'you shall all go off to Cocksmoor to-morrow morning at seven o'clock. 'You forget that we two have had it, said Mary. 'Which of you? 'All down to Blanche. 'Never mind for that. I shall have enough to do without a sick house at home.
Margaret was wonderfully gracious and child-like; but perhaps she rather oppressed him; for when Leonard explained that he must go on to meet Miss May at Cocksmoor, the little fellow sprang up, declaring that he wanted to go thither; and though told that his grandfather was coming for him, and that the walk was long, he insisted that he was not tired; and Mr.
She thought the lines and hollows were more marked than ever, and that he looked fatigued and mournful, and she felt cut to the heart; but he began to exert himself, and to make conversation, not, however, about Cocksmoor, but asking Mr. Wilmot what his brother thought of his new squire, Mr. Rivers. "He likes him very much," said Mr. Wilmot.
"Yes, but I hoped to wait in patience and perseverance, and do it at last." "All yourself?" "Now, Margaret! you know I was glad of Alan's help." "I should think so!" said Margaret. "You need not make a favour of that!" "Yes, but, don't you see, that came as almsgiving, in the way which brings a blessing. We want nothing to make us give money and work to Cocksmoor.
She only bewildered herself, and went to sleep before she had settled anything, but that she knew she must make all give way to papa first, and, secondly, to Cocksmoor. Meanwhile Margaret had told her father all that had passed.
'No man having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God." "Yes?" said Richard interrogatively. "I thought it might be a voice to me," said Ethel; "besides what it says to all, about our Christian course. It seems to tell me not to be out of heart about all those vexations at Cocksmoor. Is it not a sort of putting our hand to the plough?" Dr.
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