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Oh, sit down, for you look as if you would faint." He took the big splint armchair in the hall, and she stood by him caressing his hand, while tears glittered on her lashes. "I reached the town yesterday. I had not the courage to come, and was very tired with my journey, so I went to Mrs. Grayson's, on Second Street. I knew her during Howe's winter; some of our officers were there."
She hurried to the housekeeper's room, where Mrs Millett, who had kept the doctor's house, and attended to the cooking as well, ever since Mrs Grayson's death, was now seated making herself a new cap. "A workhouse boy, Maria?" she said, letting her work fall upon her knees, and looking over the top of her spectacles. "Yes; and master's took him into the drawing-room."
Grayson's house, their intercourse had ended with Claudia's visits. Mrs. Watson was a kind- hearted and most excellent woman, who made an admirable housekeeper, but possessed few of the qualifications requisite to render her an agreeable companion. With an ambitious nature, and an eager thirst for knowledge, Beulah had improved her advantages as only those do who have felt the need of them.
As she spoke, she had quickly detached the little instrument and had placed it on Annie Grayson's arm. If it had been a Bertillon camera, or even a finger-print outfit, Annie Grayson would probably have fought like a tigress. But this thing was a new one. She had a peculiar spirit of bravado.
They still tell in the West of Jimmy Grayson's speech at Weeping Water, as the veterans tell of Pickett's rush in the flame and the smoke up Cemetery Hill. He had gone on the stage a half-dead man. He had already been speaking nineteen hours that day. His eyes were red and swollen with train dust, prairie dust, and lack of sleep. Every bone in him ached.
Both gentlemen moved in the first circles of society in the town. It took place on the 24th of February, 1804. The occasion of the duel was a conversation that occurred in Mr. Grayson's, at Wavertree. Mr. Grayson, it seems, called Mr. Sparling "a villain," for breaking off the marriage between himself and a relative of Mr. Grayson's. Major Brooks repeated this conversation to Mr.
You do not seem to be on the road to Miss Grayson's favour." "The lady does not know me, Mr. Sefton," said Prescott, "and it cannot be any question of either favour or disfavour." The Secretary was now gazing at Miss Grayson, and Prescott used the chance to study his face. This casual but constant treading of the Secretary upon dangerous ground annoyed and alarmed him.
The first that he picked up was sensational in character, and what he saw on the front page did not please him at all. There was plenty of space devoted to Grayson, but almost as much was given to an incident of the evening as to Grayson himself. There was a huge picture of a beautiful young girl throwing her arms around Jimmy Grayson's neck, and kissing him enthusiastically.
An hour later the doctor found the child in Grayson's room, and Grayson still looking at it. "Is it going to live, doctor?" The doctor shook his head. "Doubtful. Look at the color. It's starved. There's nothing to do but to watch it and feed it. You can do that." So Grayson watched it, with a fascination of which he was hardly conscious.
Grayson's long speech of praise, in which he spoke touchingly of the beauty of a nature which loved the wild dumb creatures of the woods and sought to protect them from harm; of the cool courage and splendid will power that had sent her out on the shaking branch when her very heart was in her mouth from fear; of the modesty which had kept her silent about the glorious act after she returned to camp.
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