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If you think there is, say so!" The youth smiled. "Well, Sir, I suppose worse things could happen to us than poverty," said he. Mr. Lawrence Newt interrupted him by remarks which were belied by his beaming face. "Worse things than poverty! Why, my boy, what are you thinking of?
It was a terrible spectacle, and Lawrence Newt felt as if he must veil his eyes, as if he had no right to look upon this great agony of another. "But " said he, mechanically, as if by repeating her last word to help her in her struggle. The sad, severe woman stood before him in the darkening twilight, erect, and more than erect, drawn back from him, and quivering and defiant.
Over the heathery pasture-land of North Uist 1500 head and more of horned newt of his range in half-wild freedom. The Mundells and the Mitchells seem ubiquitous.
His mouth was parched and his mind dry. He could not think of a word to say; and, twisting and fumbling his cap, did not know how to go. "There, Miss Wayne!" suddenly said a voice at the door. Hope and Gabriel turned at the same moment, and beheld Abel Newt entering the room gayly, with a sketch in his hand.
Grace Plumer blushed, bowed, smiled, and met his offered hand half-way. Abel Newt knew perfectly what he was doing, and raised it respectfully, bowed over it, kissed it. "Moultrie, glad to see you. Miss Plumer, 'tis astonishing how this man always knows the pleasant places. If I want to know where the best fruits and the earliest flowers are, I ask Sligo Moultrie." Mr. Moultrie bowed.
Amy stopped, looked inquiringly at her friend, and blushed wondering what she meant. "Come, Hope, at least we are hiding from each other. I came to ask you to a family festival." "I am ready," answered Hope, with an air of quiet knowledge, and not at all surprised. Amy Waring was confused, she hardly knew why. "Why, Hope, I mean only that Lawrence Newt "
She smoothed the glistening golden hair, and kissed her upon the forehead. "Aunty, the young man?" said Hope, in the same tone. "Was Lawrence Newt," answered Mrs. Simcoe. It was the moment when Abel sat at his desk writing the name that Mrs. Simcoe had pronounced. Hope Wayne was perfectly sure it was coming, and yet the word shot out upon her like a tongue of lightning.
The apartment leads naturally up to that handsome, graceful, dark-haired, dark-eyed gentleman whose eye is following hers, while she does not know it; but whose mind has preceded hers in the very journey around the room it has now taken. Sligo Moultrie sits beyond Miss Plumer, who is at the left of Mr. Newt. Upon his right sits Mrs. Plumer.
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