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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Really, Mr Lorton, do you think so?" came her answer at length. "Don't you find it very cold?" "Dear me, ma! why you said last Christmas that it was too warm!" said her daughter Bessie. "Ah! Mr Lorton," continued her mother, not noticing her remark, "we never have those good, old-fashioned Christmases that we had when my poor dear papa was alive!"
"When you are cool again, Lorton," he said to me, with an expression of amiability and mingled pity on his face, that made him look to me like Mephistopheles, "you will, I know, be sorry for what you've said; and when you learn good manners I will be glad to speak to you again!" and, he walked back to the church, with the air of a person who had been deeply injured, but who had yet the magnanimity to forgive if he could not forget wishing adieu to our little party, of whom none but Min had overheard what I had said, with his usual cordiality, as if nothing had happened to disturb him.
"But," she continued, in a slightly less frigid tone, probably on account of seeing Min's agitation, and from the belief that she had put me down sufficiently "But, Mr Lorton, I do not wish to appear unkind; and, as you never thought of all this, most likely, my daughter may keep the bird you kindly brought her, if she likes."
I think I succeeded, too; for, when I took my leave early, in order to allow Miss Pimpernell and her visitor an opportunity of discussing the best way of relieving the parish poor, Mrs Clyde gave me an invitation. "Mr Lorton," said she, "I should be glad if you would come round and see us on Wednesday evening I think you know our address?
"Will you allow Min to become engaged to me?" I said, valiantly, plunging at once into the thick of the combat. "Pray, Mr Lorton," she replied, ignoring my query, "what means have you for supporting a wife? People cannot live upon nothing, you know; and `love in a cottage' is an exploded fallacy."
"Do you!" said I. "Ah, Miss Clyde! `Love me, love my dog." "What nonsense, Mr Lorton!" she said, with a warm blush tinting her cheek. "But, I declare you haven't wished me the compliments of the season yet. How very ungallant you are! I will set you an example a merry Christmas, Mr Lorton!" "A thousand to you, Miss Clyde; and each happier than the last!" I said.
They looked strangers to the parish, I think: you must have seen them, I'm sure, eh?" "Bai-ey Je-ove! Two middle-aged ladies; one dwessed in hawf-mawning? "Nonsense, Horner!" said I, interrupting him; "what a mess you are making of it! I said one lady was middle-aged; and both dressed in half-mourning." "Weally, now? No, Lorton, 'pon honah; didn't see 'em, I asshaw you.
I may listen to that before I go, something you used to sing at Lorton on a Saturday afternoon, when we had the drawing-room all to ourselves, and I put my apron over my head to listen." "I know," said Philip; and Maggie buried her face in her hands while he sang sotto voce, "Love in her eyes sits playing," and then said, "That's it, isn't it?" "Oh no, I won't stay," said Maggie, starting up.
"What!" exclaimed Mr Mawley, who had come up close behind us before we perceived him, and at once pushed into the conversation. "`One half our soil has walked the rest, Lorton? That's a palpable absurdity!
The small one is something like what she was when I was at school with her brother at King's Lorton; the larger one is not quite so good a likeness of what she was when I came from abroad." Wakem turned round fiercely, with a flushed face, letting his eye-glass fall, and looking at his son with a savage expression for a moment, as if he was ready to strike that daring feebleness from the stool.
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