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Updated: June 14, 2025
He crept nearer, so that he could have a clearer view of the figure. "It's Bill Crane!" he said to himself, with sudden recognition. "What's he up to?" Tom could guess. He didn't know the man's antecedents, but he had read his character aright. He was instantly on the alert. Crane evidently was on a thief's errand, and was likely to steal not only Miles's money but Tom's.
Still, Sir Miles's attention once, however slightly, aroused to the recollection that Lucretia was at the age when woman naturally meditates upon love and marriage, had suggested, afresh and more vividly, a project which had before been indistinctly conceived, namely, the union of the divided branches of his house, by the marriage of the last male of the Vernons with the heiress of the St. Johns.
The two years which had elapsed since his death had blunted the edge of her sorrow as time inevitably must but she still missed the shrewd, kindly, worldly-wise old man unspeakably, and just now, thrown back upon herself in some indefinable way by Miles's attitude, her whole heart cried out for that other who was gone. She wondered if he knew how much she needed him.
"'But yet You hesitate: she would not like you to be seen, perhaps, walking in Piccadilly with Gabriel Varney, the natural son of old Sir Miles's librarian, Gabriel Varney the painter; Gabriel Varney the adventurer!"
I believe she has now got over even poor Sir Miles's death." "And the loss of the great property!" "Fie, Mary!" said Mr. Fielden, almost austerely. Mary looked down, rebuked, for she was not one of the high-spirited wives who despise their husbands for goodness. "I beg pardon, my dear," she said meekly; "it was very wrong in me; but I cannot do what I will I cannot like that Miss Clavering."
As ill-luck would have it, the young man had then ceased his conversation with the chairman of the quarter sessions, and with arms folded, brow contracted, and looks, earnest, anxious, and intent, was contemplating the whispered conference between Lucretia and Vernon. Sir Miles's eye had followed his secretary's, and his face changed.
The enemy south of Hatcher's Run retreated westward to Sutherland's Station, where they were overtaken by Miles's division.
"But I have offended you," said Lucretia, softly, while she turned aside to conceal the glad light of her eyes, "pardon me; and to prove that you do so, give me your arm to my uncle's room." Vernon, with rather more of Sir Miles's antiquated stiffness than his own rakish ease, offered his arm, with a profound reverence, to his cousin, and they took their way to the house.
Now that we have succeeded in dragging the hermit out of his shell, we all want a share of his society, please." Trent turned instantly, and Sara slipped across the room and took the place Audrey had vacated by Miles's couch. He greeted her coming with a smile, but there were shadows of fatigue beneath his eyes, and his lips were rather white and drawn-looking.
Miles's division, 2d corps, was sent from the White Oak Road to Sutherland Station on the South Side Railroad, where he met them, and at last accounts was engaged with them. Not knowing whether Sheridan would get up in time, General Humphreys was sent with another division from here.
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