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Updated: May 17, 2025
"But it is real gold on the outside the clasps and all. Do you know it? it is not washed." "I know it," said Fleda, smiling; "and it is better than gold inside." "Wasn't that mamma's favourite, Mr. Olmney, that parted from you at the gate?" said Constance, after a minute's silence. "Yes." "Is he a favourite of yours, too?" "You must define what you mean by a favourite," said Fleda, gravely.
Olmney standing before her, and looking so sorrowful that Fleda's eyes could not bear it. "My dear Miss Ringgan! forgive me I hope you will forgive me but I could not leave you in such distress. I knew that in you it could only be from some very serious cause of grief." "I cannot say it is from anything new, Mr. Olmney except to my apprehensions."
Olmney standing before her, and looking so sorrowful that Fleda's eyes could not bear it. "My dear Miss Ringgan! forgive me I hope you will forgive me, but I could not leave you in such distress. I knew that in you it could only be from some very serious cause of grief." "I cannot say it is from anything new, Mr. Olmney except to my apprehensions."
But, with equal precipitation, Fleda had cast her bonnet out of sight behind the table, and the next moment turned, with the utmost possible quietness, to shake hands with Mr. Olmney. Aunt Miriam had presence of mind enough to make no remark, and receive the young gentleman with her usual dignity and kindness. He stayed some time, but Fleda's hurry seemed to have forsaken her.
Olmney was not the only one, clearly, whose powers of comprehension were not equal to the subject. "Fleda," said her aunt, inquiringly, "is there anybody else that has put Mr. Olmney out of your head?" "Nobody in the world!" exclaimed Fleda, with a frank look and tone of astonishment at the question, and cheeks colouring as promptly. "How could you ask? but he never was in my head, aunt Miriam."
One of those superb English country-seats is beyond even the imagination of an American." "Nature has been as kind to us, hasn't she?" said Fleda. "O yes, but such fortunes you know. Mr. Olmney, what do you think of those overgrown fortunes? I was speaking to Miss Ringgan just now of a gentleman who has forty thousand pounds a year income sterling, sir; forty thousand pounds a year sterling.
There is a gentle kind of discipline which does its work I think more surely." "Thank God for gentle discipline!" said Mr. Olmney; "if you do not know what those griefs are that break down mind and body together."
Skillcorn, who was at that moment standing with his hands on his sides, eying with concentrated gravity the movements of Earl Douglass and the doctor. "Don't shake your head at him!" said Fleda. "I wish you had come an hour earlier, Mr. Olmney." "Why?"
The air was gentle enough to invite them to stand still, after the exercise they had taken; and as they both looked in silence, Mr. Olmney observed that his companion's face settled into a gravity rather at variance with the expression it had worn. "I should hardly think," said he, softly, "that you were looking through white spectacles, if you had not told us so."
Olmney had the good-breeding not to look at Fleda, as he answered, "I am sure the spirit of kindness was the same in all, Dr. Quackenboss, and I trust not to forget that readily." Others now came up; and Mr. Olmney was walked off to be "made acquainted" with all or with all the chief of his parishioners then and there assembled.
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