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Updated: July 19, 2025
You would rather be shut up in prison than touch my purse or gold?" said Cecile. It was nearly dark in the cellar; but the child's eyes shining with a steadfast light, were looking full at Joe. He returned their gaze as steadfastly. "Missie, dear, 'tis a hard thing to give up seeking of yer own mother, and to go back to blows and starvation. But Joe 'ull do it.
That same evening, when, rather earlier than usual, the children and dog had taken refuge in a very tiny little wayside house, where a woman was giving them room to rest in almost for nothing, Joe, coming close to Cecile, said: "Wot wor that as you said that Jesus the Guide sent me to you, Missie. I don't know nothink about Jesus the Guide." "Oh, Joe! what an unhappy boy you must be!
"Not been over to see my cows yet, missie," he said, checking his pony again, after he had started, and leaning back in his saddle. "My Daisy's been looking for you every day. You'd be more welcome than ever, now I know who 'twas I had the pleasure of driving the other day for your mother's sake, as well as your own." Delia turned an inquiring glance on her companion, as they continued their way.
"I was wondering, missie," she said, turning to Betty, and holding out the rose to her, "if you would be pleased to have this little plant; 'tis off my old monthly rose that I've had for so many years. I planted this one last year and it has come on nicely. Would you be pleased to accept it?" Betty gasped. For a moment she was so surprised and overjoyed as to be speechless. "Me!
A moment later, though, she remembered his health, and how bad such news would be for him, with all those miles between, too; and she felt that unless it was absolutely necessary, they must spare him this trouble. Rowe, the driver, came forward to help her to her seat. "I think you'd best go outside, missie," he said gently, "you'm looking so white. P'r'aps the air'll do 'ee good.
Maria seemed to understand him best, perhaps. She looked up innocently into his tangled face. "That's it," he said, with another chuckle. "YOU know wot I mean, don't yer, missie?" But Maria made no reply. She merely beamed back at him till her face seemed nothing but a pair of wide blue eyes. "Stop yer clocks, go slow," the man murmured, half to himself, "and you'll see what I mean.
He said, Anton did, that he would lock me hup in prison this werry day, and then go and find Massenger, and give me back to him. I am never, never to see my old mother now. For I'm to go to prison if I don't give up yer purse to Anton, Missie." "But you would not take the Russia-leather purse that I was given to take care of for Lovedy?
I see Evans, the postman, and he said as there were a South African letter for you. Weren't that from Mr. Ranger, missie?" "What?" said Sylvia sharply. "Last Friday it were," the old man repeated firmly. "Why, I see the letter in his hand top of the pile when he stopped in the drive to speak to me. We both of us passed a remark on it." Sylvia was staring at him. "Jeffcott, are you sure?" she said.
He grinned broadly, though, as a rule, he was a man not given to smiles, and waved the newspaper long before he came up to her. And as he passed her, he said, in answer to her "Good morning": "Good morning to you, Missie, and many of them! I wish you joy, that I do!" "Oh!" said Bobbie to herself, and her heart quickened its beats, "something IS going to happen!
Lutey coughed and hem'd, but it was of no use she could not or did not hear; he stamped, he kicked the rock, but all in vain, and at last he had to go close to her and speak. "What's the matter, missie?" he said. "What be doing all out here by yourself?"
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