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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Yes," said Mrs. Maynard, gently, "at this season, we should all have the 'Christmas feeling, and though I'm sorry your husband can't be with you, I hope you and the children will have a happy day." "What you got for us?" whispered a little Simpson, who was patting Mrs. Maynard's muff. "Well, we'll soon show you." said Mr. Maynard, overhearing the child.
He'd give him a thousand a year, or two, if need be, but he'd never set eyes on him if he could help it. "'Aunt Abby, exclaimed I, 'please don't say another word about Mr. Maynard's helping Nat. I'd die before Nat should touch a cent of his money. "'There is no use talking that way, said Aunt Abby, whose tenderest mercies were often cruelly worded. 'Mr.
She says Mr. Hoyt will come down and escort me. But I would not like to go without mamma," and the big dark eyes looked up wistfully, "and I know she does not care to urge papa when he seems so indisposed to going." Mrs. Maynard's eyes were anxious and troubled now. She turned to her sister-in-law: "Do you think he seems any better, Grace? I do not." "It is hard to say.
And now, my hearties, we've done all we can for them for the present; so let's turn our attention to the celebration of the Maynard's Christmastide. Who wants to go to the station with me to meet Grandma and Uncle Steve?" "I!" declared the four children, as with one voice. "Yes, but you can't all go; and, too, there must be some of the nicest ones at home to greet the travellers as they enter.
You and Kitty are two loving little sisters, but I quite understand how you each love your friends of your own age." "And Kitty can keep Dorothy, but I must lose Gladys," and Marjorie's sobs broke out anew. "Why, Mopsy Midget Maynard! Why are we having April showers in January?" Mr. Maynard's cheery voice sounded in Marjorie's doorway, and his wife beckoned him to come in.
After Mr. Maynard's reverse, all that kept the pair together were the son Blair, and the sweet, fair-haired, delicate Margaret, a girl of eighteen, whom the father loved, and for whom the mother had large ambitions. They still managed, in ways mysterious to the curious, to keep their fine residence in the River Park suburb of Middleville.
Hard, stubborn fighting had Maynard's men to do that day, and for serene courage and determination no man had beaten Sloat. Both officers had bullet-hole mementos to carry from that field; both had won their brevets for conspicuous gallantry, and Sloat was a happy and grateful man when, years afterwards, his old commander secured him a lieutenancy in the regular service.
"Bella can show me the way to the room, I reckon," he said, setting the little one down on the piazza, and following her indoors; and when Grace ventured, later, to knock at the door, Maynard's voice bade her come in. He sat beside his wife's pillow, with her hand in his left; on his right arm perched the little girl, and rested her head on his shoulder.
"We didn't like to interrupt you, marm, but I am afraid the captain's in a bad way," she said, "I will attend you," exclaimed Mr Lerew: "a priest is ever in his proper place beside the bed of the dying." Without waiting for permission, he followed Miss Pemberton into Captain Maynard's room. Clara was at her father's bedside, holding his hand.
Moreover, it was she who had insisted on coming, and so she felt, in a way, responsible for what had happened to them. She jumped to her feet as soon as the man let go of her shoulder, and cried, with flashing eyes, "I will not keep still! What do you mean by treating me like that? Don't you know who I am? We're Maynards! We're Edward Maynard's children, and everybody loves the Maynards!"
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