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Even the presence of Carita seemed of small comfort. Carita was lovely but, after all, she couldn't fill Grandmother's place, nor Uncle Cliff's, nor even Aunt Lucinda's. Uncle Cliff rose from the stiff-backed chair he had been occupying for the last half hour, and took Blue Bonnet's hand. Aunt Lucinda got up, too. A frightened, half panicky look came into Blue Bonnet's face.
My tongue bragged about Dolly and Lucinda's hair ribbons to the little girls, and my feet bragged about the issue shoes, I stuck them out so far. And when the girls made fun of me I did not pull the shoes back, for I wanted them to think I was not scared, but sorry. I was truly trying to try hard, but I was trying the wrong way.
A pleasant party, this of three, which was seating itself at my table over yonder, while I, in a grimy, dingy, little tub lay looking at them, helpless in the gloom! Ah, villain, shrewd enough you were when you planned this trip for Aunt Lucinda's health! Well enough you knew that of all places in the world none equals a well equipped private yacht for the courting of a maid.
Miss Lucinda's courage rose; she forgot her prostrate friend in need, and, running to the pen, caught up hammer and nail-box on her way, and, with unusual energy, nailed up the bars stronger than ever, and then bethought herself to thank the stranger. But there he lay quite still and pale. "Dear me!" said Miss Manners, "I hope you haven't hurt yourself, Sir?"
Whether Miss Lucinda's winter dress suggested this floral metaphor let us not inquire. Sacred be sentiment, when there is even a shadow of reality about it! when it becomes a profession, and confounds itself with millinery and shades of mourning, it is "bosh," as the Turkeys say. So that very evening Monsieur Leclerc arrayed himself in his best, to give another lesson to Miss Lucinda.
As he stooped to pick up a bit of shining quartz to add to the collection in his ragged trousers' pockets he glanced across the river, and at that very instant Lucinda's log broke gently in twain, rolled down the bank, crumbling as it went, and, dropping in like a tired child, was carried peacefully along on the river's breast. Mote walked more quickly after that.
"You must know I have often had some desire for the life of action," said Mr. Waverton. To which the Colonel earnestly, "I have never known a man more fit for it," and upon that they entered my lady's drawing-room. Miss Lambourne was singing Carey's song of the nightingale: "While in a Bow'r with beauty blest The lov'd Amintor lies, While sinking on Lucinda's breast He fondly kiss'd her Eyes.
Toby certainly pleaded hard for Miss Lucinda's theory of a soul; but his was no good one: some tricksy and malign little spirit had lent him his share of intellect, and he used it to the entire subjugation of Miss Lucinda.
Lucinda's joy was in her two lovely children, whom she took, once or twice, to see the new king as he made a royal progress through their village. Her only regret was that she could reveal only half her heart as she told them what a good man he was. Sir Philo's joy was that he had acted virtuously and now enjoyed a mostly pleasant life, dispensing justice and mercy with care and humanity.
And WHO is this Romney Penhallow who mustn't be spoken to?" "Oh, Romney is one of the Charlottetown Penhallows," explained Mrs. Frederick. "He is a lawyer there. He is a first cousin of Lucinda's and a second of George's or is he? Oh, bother! You must go to Uncle John if you want the genealogy. I'm in a chronic muddle concerning Penhallow relationship.
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