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Updated: May 3, 2025
O'More at the bank rather than Andrew Goldsmith. 'Ah! said Genevieve, 'it is he who wants to pull down our dear old house. I shall quarrel with him. 'Genevieve making common cause with the obstructives of Bayford, as if he had not enemies enough! 'What's that light in the sky? exclaimed Sophy, starting up to speak to her father on the driving seat. 'A bonfire, said Mr. Kendal.
I promised Margaret I'd bring back that suit good as new." Then the O'More children came crowding to meet Elnora's mother. "Merry Christmas!" cried Mrs. Comstock, gathering them in. "Got everything right here but the tree, and there seems to be plenty of them a little higher up.
I did not find out Maurice and Winifred till he told me. Who do you think it is? I always thought love would be the making of Sophy. I see she is another being. What is your guess, Mr. Hope? Mr. Kendal made a face of astonishment at such an improbable guess, and was driven into exclaiming, 'How could any one help thinking of O'More? 'Oh! only too delightful! cried Albinia.
Genevieve had assuredly never given her heart to Gilbert, and it was ready in all the freshness of maidenly bliss to meet the manly ardour of Ulick O'More.
Suppose we go down to the swamp and I'll show you what is left of the flower-room that Terence O'More, the big lumber man of Great Rapids, made when he was a homeless boy here. Of course, you have heard the story?" "Yes, and I've met the O'Mores who are frequently in Chicago society. They have friends there. I think them one ideal couple."
Ulick O'More was at his post, and said his head was well, but his hair stuck up as if his fingers had been many times run through it; he was much thinner, and the wearied countenance, whitened complexion, and spiritless sunken eyes, were a sad contrast to the glowing freshness and life that had distinguished him in the summer. Mr.
"I was sure of it," she said winningly. "That's what we call him, and he is so like you, I doubt if any one of those three boys of yours are more so. But it's been twenty years. Seems to me you've been a long time coming!" Lord O'More caught the Angel's wrists and his wife slipped her arms around her. "Steady, my girl!" said the man's voice hoarsely.
Kendal gathered that young O'More had become so valuable, and that cold and indifferent as Mr. Goldsmith appeared, he had been growing so fond and so proud of his nephew, as actually to resolve on giving him a share of the business, and dividing the inheritance which had hitherto been destined to a certain Andrew Goldsmith, brought up in a relation's office at Bristol.
Ulick O'More, owning with a sigh that he should like to see no beast better than a snipe, gave rise to much ingenuity by being led to describe it as of a class migratory, hard to catch, food for powder, given to long bills.
The elder Maurice lifted down the younger one, who, as he was clasped by his mother, exclaimed, 'Oh! mamma, Bamfylde went so fast! I am to ride home again! He said so he's my cousin! Albinia scarcely heard; her brother however had turned to thank the stranger for her, and exclaimed, 'I should say you were an O'More. 'I'm Ulick, from the Loughside Lodge, was the answer.
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