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Updated: May 9, 2025
"The House?" "Yes, m'm. I don't know what he means," faltered the messenger, whose memory did not embrace the period when such announcements were a daily part of the domestic routine. Miss Anson glanced at the proffered card. The name it bore Mr. George Corby was unknown to her, but the blood rose to her languid cheek.
A dull splash of water, that was all; in reality, scarcely to be heard at this distance save by an ear straining in dreadful expectation. She made one effort to rise, but could not. Another, and she was fleeing back to the cottage as if chased for her life. The back-door was locked; she had to go round into the garden, and there the servant was waiting. "Have you found her, m'm?"
"I am, m'm," answered Amy, precisely. Her tone was not rude, but it was firm. She had apparently reconnoitred her position in calmness. "I'm sorry I was obliged to correct you this morning," said Sophia, with cheerful amicableness, pleased in spite of herself with the woman's tone. "But I think you will see that I had reason to."
That was all; but the tone and the manner of the maid told that Jabez was a person of note with the messenger; every movement and glance were self-conscious. "That old ! He is a nuisance! What does he want now? Is his wife worse, or is he after a new one?" "I d' n' kn', m'm," said the maid, sheepishly, twisting her body and looking away, to appear unconcerned. "Would n' tell me. He ain' after me!
Suddenly she turned and whispered, "Who is he?" "He's Cap'n Sawyer, m'm," they told her sorrowfully. "He's our own cap'n. He's been in command of us yere since a long time. He's got folks about yere. Raikon they cotch him while he was a-visiting." She was still for a time and then, awed, she said, "Will they will they hang him?" "No, m'm. Oh, no, m'm. Don't raikon no such thing. No, m'm."
"I had to skirmish in two or three houses to get these quilts, for the wind is sharp; you'll need them." "Thank you; I'm afraid you've given me more than my share." There was only one seat, and Bradley took his place beside Ida, while the driver crouched on the bottom of the clattering old democrat wagon. Ida was concerned for him. "Haven't you another seat?" she inquired. "No m'm.
Such frightful thoughts ran endlessly through Constance's mind as she bent over the fire endeavouring to keep alive a silly conversation with Maria Critchlow. Amy passed through the parlour to go to bed. There was no other way of reaching the upper part of the house. "Are you going to bed, Amy?" "Yes'm." "Where is Fossette?" "In the kitchen, m'm," said Amy, defending herself. "Mrs.
One . . . two. . .eight . . . seventeen . . . twenty-one,. . 'm'm . . . it takes a heap for a majority. Wouldn't Dilworthy open his eyes if he knew some of the things Balloon did say to me. There. . . . Hopperson's influence ought to count twenty . . . the sanctimonious old curmudgeon.
No, indeedee! There was a mighty big swarm of Yanks and a mighty big swarm of our boys, too. What that little passel? No, m'm." She became calm enough to scan them more attentively. They were much begrimed and very dusty. Their gray clothes were tattered. Splashed mud had dried upon them in reddish spots. It appeared, too, that the men had not shaved in many days.
"Oh yes, m'm, h'interest; but they don't take no special notice of one tomb above h'another."
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