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"They're getting on nicely, every one of them," said she, with quite an air of pride; and then she added, "When is your Munificence going to give me another subscription?" "Just now, Francie," was the instant reply. "How much do you want?" "As much as ever you can afford," said she. He pulled from his pocket a handful of loose coin, and began to pick out the sovereigns.
Tell me, she is not Lady Travis Underwood's daughter?" "Oh no; she is Anna's sister, Adrian's sister." "So I told Lady Rotherwood, I was sure it was so." "The Travis Underwoods have no children, but they adopted Emilia when I took Anna, and they have brought three Vanderkists to this affair. Francie has never been from home before, it is all quite new to her."
Whether this was a little late in the day, and those rewards of the possessive instinct, lands and money, destined for the melting-pot was still a question so moot that it was not mooted. After all, Timothy had said Consols were goin' up. Timothy, the last, the missing link; Timothy, in extremis on the Bayswater Road so Francie had reported.
"What's the difference of style?" asked Mr. Dosson. But before this question could be answered Francie protested against the charge of "carrying-on." Quiet? Wasn't she as quiet as a Quaker meeting? Delia replied that a girl wasn't quiet so long as she didn't keep others so; and she wanted to know what her sister proposed to do about Mr. Flack.
The wants of the people, however, appeared at the present moment to interest Mr. Flack less than his own. He looked at his watch and remarked that the old gentleman didn't seem to have much authority. "What do you mean by that?" the girl asked. "Why with Miss Francie. She's taking her time, or rather, I mean, she's taking mine."
Probert to the circus; she had apostrophised Francie as they each sat in a red-damask chair after ascending to their apartments. They had bade their companions farewell at the door of the hotel and the two gentlemen had walked off in different directions.
'Have ye gotten the billet, Francie said she; and when he had handed it over, and she had read and burned it, 'Did you see anybody? she asked. 'I saw the laird, said Francie. 'He didna see you, though? asked his mother. 'Deil a fear, from Francie. 'Francie! she cried. 'What's that I hear? an aith? The Lord forgive me, have I broughten forth a brand for the burning, a fagot for hell-fire?
He was always a great child for secret, stealthy ways, having been employed by his mother on errands when the same was necessary; and he came behind the lass without her hearing. 'Jennet, says he. 'Keep me, cries Janet, springing up. 'O, it's you, Maister Francie! Save us, what a fricht ye gied me. 'Ay, it's me, said Francie. 'I've been thinking, Jennet; I saw you and the curate a while back
You will no doubt have an opportunity to say to him whatever, my dear Francie, you CAN say! It will matter comparatively little that you may never be able to say it to your friend with every allowance SUZANNE DE BRECOURT. Francie looked at this letter and tossed it away without reading it.
I shall take it into consideration, any way, my dear mother; and she smiled a little. 'Yes, Frances, she went on, looking up, and speaking more decidedly; 'of course I'll tell Lady Myrtle. I think I'll go and tell her now. I know she is alone in the boudoir. And, Francie, you may tell Eugene. 'May I? exclaimed Frances, jumping up. 'Oh, thank you, Jass.
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