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Updated: May 25, 2025
And she was your protegee." "And you are going to take her off my hands." "I'm not so sure," said Mrs. Maturin. The Hampton strike had reached the state of grim deadlock characteristic of all stubborn wars. There were aggressions, retaliations on both sides, the antagonism grew more intense.
Maturin dwelt on her own past, on the little girl of six taken from her the year after her husband died, on her husband himself, once a professor here, and who, just before his last illness, had published a brilliant book on Russian literature which resulted in his being called to Harvard. They had gone to Switzerland instead, and Augusta Maturin had come back to Silliston.
"Well, I should like to see the prospectus now," he said. "You'll find one or two over there," said Dick, jerking his head towards a writing-table, but not rising. Morewood made in the direction indicated, a low mutter from Dick following him. Then Jimmy observed: "He doesn't understand a thing about it, you know, and of course he didn't follow what Maturin said." The others nodded.
For there is one glory of the hyacinth, of the tulip and narcissus and the jonquil, and another of the Michaelmas daisy and the aster. Insall was often there, and on Saturdays and Sundays he took Mrs. Maturin and Janet on long walks into the country.
There are those who would assign what they might call "higher genius," or "rarer gift," or something similar, to her countryman Charles Robert Maturin. The present writer is not very fond of these measurings together of things incommensurable these attempts to rank the "light white sea-mew" as superior or inferior to the "sleek black pantheress."
She told Janet of the loon-haunted lake, hemmed in by the Laurentian hills, besieged by forests, where she had spent her girlhood summers with her father, Professor Wishart, of the University of Toronto. There, in search of health, Gifford Maturin had come at her father's suggestion to camp.
A gentle rain had fallen during the day, but had ceased as she made her way toward Insall's house. The place was familiar now: she had been there to supper with Mrs. Maturin, a supper cooked and served by Martha Vesey, an elderly, efficient and appallingly neat widow, whom Insall had discovered somewhere in his travels and installed as his housekeeper.
And now, since the baby came, and I know I'm not going to get well, I seem to see things much more clearly." "Why do you say you're not going to get well, Janet? In this air, and with the child to live for!" "I know it. Dr. McLeod knows it, or he wouldn't be staying here, and you've both been too kind to tell me. You've been so kind, Mrs. Maturin I can't talk about it.
Whenever you want help and advice, I shall always be here, and from time to time I'll be seeing you. Isn't that sensible?" "Oh, Mrs. Maturin if you really want me still?" "I do want you, Janet, even more than I did before, because you need me more," Mrs. Maturin replied, with a sincerity that could not fail to bring conviction....
Established here before the birth of the Republic, its roots were bedded in the soil of a racial empire, to a larger vision of which Augusta Maturin clung: an empire of Anglo-Saxon tradition which, despite disagreements and conflicts nay, through them developed imperceptibly toward a sublimer union, founded not on dominion, but on justice and right.
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