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"'What are you looking at? asked James Hetheridge. "'I was looking after that old lady, I answered, 'but I can't see her. "'What old lady? said Hetheridge, with just a touch of impatience. "'You must have seen her, I returned. 'You were not more than three yards behind her. "'Where is she then? "'She must have gone down one of the areas, I think.

Even the carpet was covered with a cold and slippery sheet of brown holland. Mr. Hetheridge never entered that room, and therein was wise. James remonstrated once. She answered him quite kindly, even playfully, but no change followed. What was worse, she made very wretched tea. Her father never took tea; neither did James. I was rather fond of it, but I soon gave it up.

"I was kindly received. Mrs. Hetheridge had been dead for some years, and Laetitia, the eldest of the family, was at the head of the household. She had two sisters, little more than girls. The father was a burly, yet gentlemanlike Yorkshire squire, who ate well, drank well, looked radiant, and hunted twice a week.

the soul is all they love, the fair, sweet character, the lofty mind, the tender woman's heart, and gentle loveliness; but when you come down to the statistics of love and matrimony, you find Sally Hetheridge at sixty an old maid, and Miss Bowen at nineteen adored by a dozen men and engaged to one.

"She never lifted her face, or seemed to know that I stood behind her. I left her, and went into the bow window, where I could see her face. I was right. It was the same old lady I had met in Russell Square, walking in front of James Hetheridge.

"I very soon found myself at home with the Hetheridges; and very soon again I began to find myself not so much at home; for Miss Hetheridge Laetitia as I soon ventured to call her was fascinating. I have told you, Katey, that there was an empty place in my heart. Look to the door then, Katey. That was what made me so ready to fall in love with Laetitia.

If I were to guess Sally Hetheridge, I might come as near as I shall to the truth." Laura laughed. "You know better," said she. "Frank Addison is the last man to marry a dried-up old tailoress." "I don't know that he is; according to his theories of women and marriage, Sally would make him happy. She is true-hearted, I am sure, generous, kind, affectionate, sensible, and poor.

"'There was no big dog, said Hetheridge, shaking his head, as the fact for the first time dawned upon me that, although I had seen the old lady clearly enough to make a sketch of her, even to the features of her care-worn, eager old face, I had not been able to recognise the well-known countenance of James Hetheridge. "'That's what comes of reading till the optic nerve is weakened," he went on.

"'I had lain down with a headache, and gone to sleep, I replied. 'But, forgive me, Miss Hetheridge, I added, for my mind was full of the dreadful coincidence, 'don't you think you would have been better at church than balancing your accounts on Christmas Day? "'The better day the better deed, she said, with a somewhat offended air, and turned to walk from the room.