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Updated: June 23, 2025
"Mr. Knowles," he declared, "this is a great pleasure, sir. I knew your father years ago when I was a young man, mate of one of our ships engaged in the Italian fruit trade. He was very kind to me at that time. I have never forgotten it. May I sit down?" The chair next to ours happened to be unoccupied at the moment and he took it. I introduced Hephzibah and we chatted for some time.
We could see Augustus walk up the path and turn the handle of the front door without ringing. In this impertinence I am glad to say he was checked, as Hephzibah had fortunately let the bolt slip after showing in Lady Tilchester. He rang an angry peal. Grandmamma frowned. When Augustus finally got into the room his face was purple.
Benoit a little account of Hephzibah and the reason of the proposed series of visits. In the midst of this came a cheery "Daisy" at the other side of her; and turning her head, there was Preston's face at the window. "O Preston!" Daisy handed to Mrs. Benoit her unfinished saucer of strawberries "I am so glad! I have been waiting for you. Have you brought my books?"
He was seated in a rigid, high-backed arm-chair, well away from the huge cook-stove, at which Hephzibah Malling was presiding. Many kettles and saucepans stood steaming upon the black iron top, and the occasional opening and shutting of the ovens told of dainties which needed the old farm-wife's most watchful care. Mrs. Malling's occupation, however, did not interrupt her flow of conversation.
The wedding party had arrived from Loon Dyke Farm. Hephzibah Malling had gathered her friends together, and all had driven over for the happy event amidst the wildest enthusiasm and excited anticipation.
Uniformed custom officers and uniformed policemen stood in line as we came up the gang-plank. Behind them, funny little locomotives attached to queer cars which appeared to be all doors, puffed and panted. Hephzibah looked about her. "Yes," she said, with conviction. "I'm believin' it more and more all the time. It is England, just like the pictures.
Daisy did not see the point of this remark, and went on. "Hephzibah wouldn't see anybody else, but me." "Well, I believe you mean what you say," said Mrs. Harbonner, "and I hope you will when you're twenty years older but I don't believe it.
I hate these damp, cold days, and the east winds, and the darkness. I wish I might stay in bed until eleven, as grandmamma does. We have our chocolate at seven, which Hephzibah brings up, and then when I am dressed I practise for an hour; after that there are the finishing touches to be put to our sitting-room, and the best Sèvres and the miniatures to be dusted.
"You are to understand that I will not be mauled and and kissed like like Hephzibah at the back door," I said, with freezing dignity, my head in the air. "Hoity-toity!" But you look so deuced pretty when you are angry!" I did not melt, but stood on the defensive. He became supplicating again. "Ambrosine, I love you don't be cross with me. I won't make you angry again until you are used to me.
"He gets it out of everybody," said Hephzibah. "Tain't no odds." "But, Hephzibah, if those trees were yours, would you like to have Mr. Lamb come and take the nuts away?" "No. I'd get somebody to shoot him." Daisy hardly knew how to go along with her discourse; Hephzibah's erratic opinions started up so fast. She looked at her little rough pupil in absolute dismay.
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