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Updated: June 3, 2025
I see, by your letters, that you have not forgotten our tongue." "Not in the least, Mortiz. I have, for years, spoken nothing else with Dick, and he speaks it as well as I do." "That is good," the Rajah replied, in his own tongue, and in a tone of relief. "I was wondering how he would get on with us. "Now, let us sit down.
"I know, Mortiz," she said, "that you think it is folly, on my part, to cling to hope; and while I do not disguise from myself that there would seem but small chance that my husband has survived, and that I can give no reason for my faith in his still being alive, and my confidence that he will be restored to me some day, I have so firm a conviction that nothing will shake it.
"I would not say that they are hopeless," he said gently, "although it seems to me that, after all these years, the chances are slight, indeed, that your husband can be alive; and the peril and danger of the enterprise that, so far as I understood you, you intend your son to undertake, would be terrible, indeed." "We see that, Mortiz. Dick and I have talked it over, a thousand times.
I encourage her to go about, as our mother did, to look after the affairs of the house, to sit at table with me, and to be my companion, and not a mere plaything. I am sure, Margaret, your stay with us will do her much good, and she will learn a great deal from you." "You have heard no news since you last wrote, Mortiz?" A slight cloud passed across the Rajah's animated face. "None, Margaret.
We have little news from beyond the mountains. Tippoo hates us, who are the friends of the English, as much as he hates the English themselves, so there is little communication between Mysore and the possessions of the Nabob of Arcot. We will talk, later on, of the plans you wrote of in your last letter to me." "You do not think that they are hopeless, Mortiz?" Mrs. Holland asked, anxiously.
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