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Updated: June 4, 2025
By directing me to this particular house in Nelson Square, Fate had done to me a kindness. I flatter myself we were an interesting menagerie gathered together under its leaky roof. Mrs. Peedles, our landlady, who slept in the basement with the slavey, had been an actress in Charles Keane's company at the old Princess's. There, it is true, she had played only insignificant parts.
It was proof of the rare delicacy of Robert Keane's nature that he put the matter in the light of a favour to himself. Mr. Goldthwaite admired and honoured his friend at that moment more than he had ever done before. Aunt Hepsy preserved a rigid and unbending silence. Uncle Josh stood twirling his thumbs reflectively.
"I never heard any one speak as you do, Judge Keane," said Lucy, with a dignity which dumfoundered Tom; and she moved away and sat down by Mrs. Goldthwaite, and began to talk to her about Carrie. "What makes you look so sober, Tom Hurst?" queried Minnie Keane's voice at his elbow a few minutes later. "Shall I tell you, Minnie?" "You must," was the calm reply.
"Let us sit here and see the sun set, and have a talk, Lucy," said Minnie, drawing Lucy a little apart. "What a perfectly elegant poem that was you wrote. It's 'most as good as Whittier's George reads to mamma sometimes. I guess you'll grow up to be a Mrs. Whittier." "Oh no," said Lucy, laughing a little; "Miss Keane's was just as good, I think, only I wrote more. How funny yours was."
Keane's words, that it was only through much hard, plodding, uninteresting work, that he could ever hope to place his foot on the first step of the ladder. But he had a kind hand and an encouraging word always ready to help him on, and was happy in his apprenticeship. Thanks to Aunt Hepsy's careful nursing, midsummer saw Lucy fully restored to health again.
"Talking of holidays, Miss Hepsy," she said, "I want you to give this patient little maiden one, and Tom too." "Not if I know it," answered Miss Hepsy promptly. "Oh yes you will," said Miss Goldthwaite serenely. "We are to have a picnic up the Peak on Monday, in Judge Keane's waggon. I've set my heart on Lucy and Tom, and half a day is nothing."
Keane's pleasant, well-modulated voice. "The Peak shows splendidly from this window." "The place aren't no great thing, sir," said Miss Hepsy. "Here's Josh." She opened the door, and Uncle Josh appeared on the threshold in his working garb, grimy and dust-stained, as he had come from repairing the mill. He pulled his hair to the minister, and bowed awkwardly to Mr. Keane.
"We are to have a picnic up the Peak on Monday in Judge Keane's waggon," said she after a moment. "Your aunt has promised to let you and Lucy come. Will you like it?" "Like it! Up the Peak! O Miss Goldthwaite," said the boy, looking away to the towering hill beyond, "I have wished I could go every day since I came. How good you are to Lucy and me!" "She will tell you when to be ready.
Keane's store a charming lad, excellently mannered, speaking French correctly though with a babyish accent; very handsome too, and much of a dandy, as was shown not only in his shining raiment, but by the nature of his purchases. These were five ship-biscuits, a bottle of scent, and two balls of washing blue.
Keane's error in detaining Cotton at Quetta until he should arrive proved itself in the semi-starvation to which the troops of the Bengal column were reduced.
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