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"There is another reason," Falkner exclaimed abruptly, "why I did not wish to go and you must know it." She raised her head and looked at him, murmuring, "Yes! I know it! ... But nothing should keep you here." "No, not keep me.... But there is something infinitely precious to lose by going.... You have made me live again, Margaret. I was dead, dead, a dead soul."
Grandma Brown always officiated at deaths and births in Lost Chief. After it was found impossible to get in touch with young Jeff and after the sheriff had made a three days' investigation, she ordered the funeral to take place at once. "We could pack him down in the ice till a thaw opens up the cemetery a little," suggested Charleton Falkner.
Falkner, till you bring my basket for me to select the floss you need." Hetty, being thus left alone, scrambled up, and toddled toward Mrs. King, as if accustomed to an affectionate reception.
She was engaged for a long time to that Captain Falkner, you know, who commanded the Cynthia; but, I suppose her relations did not like her to marry him because he wasn't a lord, and intended her for a duke or a marquis perhaps." "I do not see why they should have done that," answered the other midshipman.
He spoke of the swindling and treachery which had undoubtedly provoked Falkner to obtain restitution of his property by an overt act of violence under the leadership of Lee.
I shall always keep it; and when you get to be a famous preacher, I'll exhibit my treasure, and tell how the Rev. Mr. Richard Falkner sat up late one night to design the cover for me, when he was only a poor printer." "Yes," retorted Dick, "and I'll tell the world how I went to my first church social, and what a charming young lady I met, who told me how much I reminded her of someone she knew."
So at last love and hope conquered; and as soon as she was strong enough, she left the place and went with Sarah to the latter's humble home. There Dick called to see her. "Mr. Falkner," she said, sadly, after the pain and embarrassment of the first meeting had passed off a little. "I do not understand; what makes you do these things?"
Renault, who had a chord in common with this Southern woman, stroked her hand gently as he left. "Better take the little chap away somewhere and get a change yourself," he said. It was a still, hot night of late June, the last time that Falkner climbed the hill to the old place. The summer, long delayed, had burst these last days with scorching fury.
"There's the Swallow!" Falkner cried, pointing into the stream. They were soon aboard, and Margaret curled herself in the cockpit on a rug, while Falkner ran up the sails. Little waves were dancing across the harbor. Taking the tiller, he crouched beside her and whispered: "Now we are off to the islands of the blest!"
"So you are to have my boys at the Mission. Oh, I am so glad." And her eyes filled. "Don't let them forget me altogether, Mr. Falkner." "But won't you come back and teach them yourself?" "No, no; you do not understand; I must give it up. But you'll do better than I anyway, because you can get closer to them. You understand that life so well." "Yes," he said, very soberly.
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