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Updated: May 11, 2025
The study door noiselessly opened, and Darrell's voice called out, "Fairthorn, let me speak with you." Every street has two sides, the shady side and the sunny. When two men shake hands and part, mark which of the two takes the sunny side: he will be the younger man of the two.
Twice again that day Sophy encountered the enraged musician; each time the same menacing aspect and weird disappearance. "Is Mr. Fairthorn ever a little-odd?" asked Sophy timidly of George Morley. "Always," answered George, dryly. Sophy felt relieved at that reply. Whatever is habitual in a man's manner, however unpleasant, is seldom formidable.
Lionel followed in a sort of supernatural awe, and beheld, with more substantial alarm, Mr. Fairthorn winding up an inclined plank which lie embraced with both arms, and by which he ultimately ascended to a timber joist in what should have been an upper floor, only flooring there was none. Perched there, Fairthorn glared down on Lionel through his spectacles.
Farmer Fairthorn a hale, ruddy, honest figure, in broad-brimmed hat, brown coat and knee-breeches already sat upon the old mare, and the pillion behind his saddle awaited the coming burden.
So frank and serene was her bearing, that the old man felt both relieved and softened. "I suppose it happened so," he said. "I saw his mother with Friend Fairthorn. I only meant thee shouldn't be seen in company with young Potter, when thee could help it; thee knows what I mean."
Worse than Nero striking his lyre amidst the conflagration of Rome!" By-and-by Sophy, who somehow or other cannot sit long in any place, and tires that day of any companion, wanders away from the lake and comes right upon Fairthorn.
Mother Fairthorn might have had her suspicions, but it was her nature to wait cheerfully, and say nothing. "See here, Daddy and Mammy!" said Mark, "have either o' you any objections to Sally and me bein' a pair?" Farmer Fairthorn smiled, rubbed his hands together, and turning to his wife, asked, "What has Mammy to say to it?"
She looked around from her saddle, blushing, smiling, and on the point of bursting into tears; and it was a godsend, as she afterwards remarked, that Mark Deane and Sally Fairthorn appeared at that moment.
"I had no idea," said Lionel, as Darrell rode slowly away, soon lost from sight amidst the thick foliage of summer trees, "I had no idea that my cousin was so young!" "Oh, yes," said Mr. Fairthorn; "he is only a year older than I am!" "Older than you!" exclaimed Lionel, staring in blunt amaze at the elderly-looking personage beside him; "yet true, he told me so himself."
That abominable Fairthorn has been shedding its prickles! How could I trust flesh and blood to such a bramble? I'll know what it was this instant!" Vain menace! No sooner did Mr.
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