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Toward the end of the evening, having been thoughtful for ten minutes, Elmer adopted Florrie's tactics and remarked suddenly and in a voice to be heard much farther than his needed to carry: "Say, Fluff. Saw an old friend of yours the other day." And when Florrie, "gun-shy" as Elmer called her, was too wise to ask any questions, he hastened on: "Juanito Miranda it was. Sent his best. So did Mrs.
"Be not amazed, daughter Miranda," said Prospero; "there. is no harm done. I have so ordered it, that no person in the ship shall receive any hurt. What I have done has been in care of you, my dear child. You are ignorant who you are, or where you came from, and you know no more of me, but that I am your father and live in this poor cave. Can you remember a time before you came to this cell?
If he worked hard, he thought, he might some day win the approval of the coy and retiring Miranda of Smart Society; that modest maiden might in his praise interrupt her task of disinterested advertisement, her philanthropic counsels to "go to Jumper's, and mind you ask for Mr. C. Jumper, who will show you the lovely blue paper with the yellow spots at ten shillings the piece."
I WASN'T able to go to prayer meeting that evening because I had neuralgia in my face; but Thomas went, and the minute he came home I knew by the twinkle in his eye that he had some news. "Who do you s'pose Stephen Clark went home with from meeting to-night?" he said, chuckling. "Jane Miranda Blair," I said promptly.
“Who all you got here?” questioned Miranda as she took a draught from the old gourd. “Well, got a gentleman from New York fur one. He’s real pretty. Quite a beau. His clo’es are that nice you’d think he was goin’ to court. He’s that particular ’bout his eatin’ I feel flustered. Nothin’ would do but he hed to hev a downstairs room. He said he didn’t like goin’ upstairs.
Jest put your bags right there on the floor.” “You are— Are you—Mrs. Spafford?” hesitated the courtly old gentleman. “Oh, landy sakes, no, I ain’t her,” laughed Miranda well pleased. “Mis’ Spafford had jest stepped out a bit when her husband come home, an’ he’s gone after her. You see she didn’t expect her husband home till late to-night. But you set down. They’ll be home real soon now.
"I don' know as I cal'lated to be the makin' of any child," Miranda had said as she folded Aurelia's letter and laid it in the light-stand drawer. "I s'posed, of course, Aurelia would send us the one we asked for, but it's just like her to palm off that wild young one on somebody else." "You remember we said that Rebecca or even Jenny might come, in case Hannah couldn't," interposed Jane.
So they stood looking at each other for some ten seconds or so, and then, still looking full at him, Miranda spoke, and her voice was as clear and emotionless as her eyes, "Well, Sir Norman Kingsley, I have come to see you before you die." "Madame," he stammered, scarcely knowing what he said, "you are kind." "Am I? Perhaps you forget I signed your death-warrant."
No awkwardness was or could be in this antelope, when gliding with forest grace into the room no town-bred shame nothing but the unaffected pleasure of one who wishes to speak a fervent welcome, but knows not if she ought the astonishment of a Miranda, bred in utter solitude, when first beholding a princely Ferdinand and just so much reserve as to remind you, that if Catalina thought fit to dissemble her sex, she did not.
For the one thing sure and certain was that the fatal moment of inspiration would come to Miranda in time to allow her to reach the railings before the start. Suddenly a name uttered by an apoplectic gentleman in a voice breaking with fine passion reached her ears, with the odds attached to it of nine to one. Miranda's face cleared of all its troubles.
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