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Updated: June 24, 2025
The little old lady knew well enough that when George and Mab were married, the archdeacon's widow would use her famous memory to recall the scandals she had set afloat nearly thirty years before. Therefore, to defeat Mrs Pansey once and for all, she called on that good lady and dared her to say that there was any disgrace attached to Mab's parentage.
The holidays passed too quickly, as they always did at Brenlands. Jack was no longer the ugly duckling. Whatever misunderstanding or lack of sympathy might have existed hitherto between himself and Valentine had melted away in the sunny atmosphere of Queen Mab's court; and since the incident of the magpie's nest, the two boys had become fast friends. Soldiering was their great mutual hobby.
'That's Mab's voice. She thinks me a dear little girl, does she, comments Miss Seaton. 'Poor child; she is so like what her mother was at that age. Does she know about her? Lippa recognises Lady Dadford's voice, but it never enters her head that she ought not to listen. 'No, replies Mabel.
"Anything that isn't alive, and hasn't any sense, and don't care for you! I like canary birds, and babies, and ponies, and that's enough to like." "Well, now, that's so funny!" said Florence, twitching the folds of Queen Mab's dress into place; "for the very reason I like my doll, is because she isn't alive.
As if in review, her anchorite existence passed before her: six days of the week spent in the office and in journeying back and forth on the ferry; the hours stolen before bedtime for snatches of song at the piano, for doing her own special laundering, for sewing and mending and casting up of meagre accounts; the two evenings a week of social diversion she permitted herself; the other stolen hours and Saturday afternoons spent with her brother at the hospital; and the seventh day, Sunday, her day of solace, on Mab's back, out among the blessed hills.
'Thank God she is unlike him in every way, save that she takes after him in looks. When Captain Pendle talks of Mab's rich Eastern beauty, I shiver all over; he little knows that he speaks the truth, and that Mab has Arab blood in her veins. 'Not Arab blood, my dear lady, cried Graham, alertly; 'the gipsies do not come from Arabia, but, as is believed, from the north of India.
What knew she of the girl who helped Theseus, her lover, to slay the Minotaur? What guessed she of the Slopes of Naxos? How old was Ariadne? Twenty? For that was Mab's age. Was Ariadne beautiful?
Daddy Blake found a few places in Mab's bean patch where the useless weeds needed hoeing away, so they would not steal from the brown earth the food which the good plants needed. "And one or two of your corn hills could be made a little higher, Hal," said his father.
Jack turned over the pages until he came to "Hark, hark, my soul!" and then, sitting down, played the air through several times with one finger. It was a tune that had been popular on Sunday evenings at Brenlands, and the children had always called it Queen Mab's hymn. Jack shut the book with a bang.
A diurnal-maker is the sub-almoner of history, Queen Mab's register, one whom, by the same figure that a north country pedlar is a merchantman, you may style an author. It is like overreach of language, when every thin tinder-cloaked quack must be called a doctor; when a clumsy cobbler usurps the attribute of our English peers, and is vamped a translator.
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