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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Bet he didn't!" declared Peace, who had stood open-mouthed and silent during Hope's recital. "I gave him a great big lunch and and some matches to make some more with " "Yes," said Faith, bitterly grieved over the loss of the cake, "and kept him hanging around here all the morning, till we thought he never was going. I suppose he took the cake for his dinner." "I don't believe it!
"Do you really think," I asked as we sat down on the sands, "that he will never go back to Puddleby again?" "I don't know," said she. "At one time I felt sure that the thought of the pets he had left behind at the house would take him home soon. But since Miranda brought him word last August that everything was all right there, that hope's gone.
Wilson?" he said, accosting the master of the Pharos, who has been already introduced as the landing-master. "I think so; the barometer has not fallen much; and even although the wind should increase a little, we can effect a landing by the Fair Way, at Hope's Wharf."
Lance dismounted and looked in, saw it still dismal with the disorder of the last unfortunate dance. It was evident that there had been no school since the Fourth of July. Then he remembered that Mary Hope's father had been sick all of the week, and it was now only two days since the funeral. She would not be teaching school so soon after his death.
"Other children?" she echoed, but Nettie's sharpened face brought her to herself. She wiped her eyes on Hope's dress. "I lost a child," she said. "Oh," Nettie murmured, "I'm sorry I asked you. It was older than Dorcas?" Charlotte stood at bay, with her child strained close to her. She nodded. "Oh!" Nettie murmured again, in a shaken voice. She looked at Charlotte in despairing envy.
'It might not have been Winifred, I shouted. But no sooner had I done so than the scene in the studio Wilderspin's story of the model's terror on seeing my mother's portrait came upon me, and 'Dead! dead! rang through me like a funeral knell: all the superstructure of Hope's sophisms was shattered in a moment like a house of cards: my imagination flew away to all the London graveyards I had ever heard of; and there, in the part divided by the pauper line, my soul hovered over a grave newly made, and then dived down from coffin to coffin, one piled above another, till it reached Winifred, lying pressed down by the superincumbent mass; those eyes staring.
Emilia had gone for a few weeks to the mountains, with the household of which she was a guest. An ideal and unreasonable passion is strongest in absence, when the dream is all pure dream, and safe from the discrepancies of daily life. When the two girls were together, Emilia often showed herself so plainly Hope's inferior, that it jarred on Philip's fine perceptions.
Hope's all right; she's a mighty fine girl, but you are the one for me, Christie. Could you could you care for such a duffer as I am?" Her lips were smiling and so were her eyes, but it was a pleading smile. "I I don't think it would be so very hard," she admitted, "not if you really wanted me to." "You know what I mean that I love you, wish you to be my wife?"
One ground of Mr Hope's confidence was Hester's candour. She had truly told her sister, she felt it was no time for pride when he offered himself to her. Her pride was strong; but there was something in her as much stronger in force than her pride as it was higher in its nature; and she had owned her love with a frankness which had commanded his esteem as much as it engaged his generosity.
They find their highest field in fitting us for the grinding tasks and the heavy burdens that the moment lays upon us. So, dear friends! we are very different in our circumstances and positions. For some of us Hope's basket is nearly empty, and Memory's sack is very full. For us older men the past is long, the earthly future is short. For you younger people the converse is the case.
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