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Martha lay on the bed, her face to the wall, her head still in her palms. She had ceased sobbing and was quite still, as if exhausted. Jane leaned over the banisters, called to one of the servants, and dropping the letter to the floor below, said: "Take that to Captain Holt's. When he comes bring him upstairs here into my sitting-room."
Wynn the elder helped him to carry young Armytage home, wherein Sam Holt's great physical strength carefully bore two-thirds of the dead weight.
"Mary Standish!" She turned. And in that moment Alan Holt's face was the color of gray rock. It was the dead he had been thinking of, and it was the dead that had risen before him now. For it was Mary Standish who stood there on the old cottonwood log, shooting firecrackers in this evening of his home-coming. After that one calling of her name Alan's voice was dead, and he made no movement.
I was about turning away to speak to the young man, when I was recalled by an exclamation from the landlord: "I guess," said he, in a half-bantering way, "you hain't told me your business yet?" "No," I answered deferentially, "I have not." "What on airth's takin' you to Holt's Clearin'?" "That, Mr Kipp I beg pardon Colonel Kipp is a private matter." "Private and particular, eh?" "Very."
They did not even resent the cologne-drenched handkerchiefs the visitors invariably held to their noses. As evil odors meant nothing to them, they probably mistook the gesture for modesty. Madeleine preferred her smelling salts, and at Holt's suggestion had wrapped her handkerchief about the gold and crystal bottle.
They are all quiet now, those eager, snarling editors of fifty years since, and mostly forgotten. Even the ink which records their spiteful abuse is fading away; "Dunne no more the halter dreads, The torrent of his lies to check, No gallows Cheetham's dreams invades, Nor lours o'er Holt's devoted neck."
Holt's father wrote a letter to Mr Proctor, which reached its destination through Mr Tooke's hands; and Mr Tooke was consulted in the whole matter, and requested by Mr Proctor to tell the two boys and Phil all about it. These three were therefore called into Mr Tooke's study one day, to hear some news. The letters which Mr Tooke read were about Hugh.
Holt's own boudoir, where a maid was closing the windows against the first great drops of the storm, which the wind was pelting against them. She drew the shades deftly, lighted the gas, and retired.
So when Kate, with the courage and frankness inherent in her nature, had told the old ladies of Cuthbert's betrothal, Petronella adding all she knew of the constancy of her brother's attachment to Martin Holt's daughter, Lady Humbert recognized in a moment that it would not do to treat the girl as a mere dependent.
As a part of the message, Mr. Holt sent word that at that hour the moon would be rising. Of course they went down to the dike, Mr. Caldigate, John Caldigate, and Hester there, outside Mr. Holt's farmyard, just far enough to avoid danger to the hay-ricks and corn-stacks there was blazing an enormous bonfire.
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