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Updated: May 11, 2025
"No, thank you, I will not sit down," he said, as with almost solicitude in her face she offered him a chair. "I merely wish to give you something of" he hesitated "Mrs. Philbrick's." He drew from his breast a small package of papers, yellow, creased, old. He unfolded one of these and handed it to Lizzy, saying, "This is a sonnet of hers which has never been printed.
I saw a girl, five and a half years of age, write the alphabet without delay in script hand, in a manner that would have been creditable to a pupil in a grammar school. I present Mr. Philbrick's own account of his mode of proceeding, in an extract from his third quarterly report to the school committee of the city of Boston.
If the whole truth could have been known of Stephen's feeling about all crimes and sins, it would have been found to be far more a matter of taste than of principle, of instinct than of conviction. Surely never in this world did love link together two souls more diametrically opposite than Mercy Philbrick's and Stephen White's.
I shall trust you to the day of my death." Perhaps nothing could illustrate better the difference between Mercy Philbrick's nature and Stephen White's, between her love for him and his for her, than the fact that, after this conversation, she lay awake far into the early hours of the morning, living over every word that he had spoken, looking resolutely and even joyously into the strange future which was opening before her, and scanning with loving intentness every chance that it could possibly hold for her ministrations to him.
Budlong prodded Miss Eyester in the ribs with his elbow in his eagerness to get in ahead of her, while old Mr. Penrose reached a long arm over Aunt Lizzie Philbrick's shoulder and took away a piece of apple pie upon which she already had closed her fingers. When Miss Gaskett and Mr.
Philbrick's fields one morning, I counted fifty persons at work who belonged to one plantation.
We do not die till we have found them. There were yet to enter into Mercy Philbrick's life a new light and a new force, by the help of which she would see clearly and stand firm. The secret which she had now for nearly a year kept from her mother was a very harmless one.
Jackson, with her pleasant home, could not rest from her work. Two novels came from her pen, Mercy Philbrick's Choice and Hetty's Strange History. It is probable also that she helped to write the beautiful and tender Saxe Holm Stories. It is said that Draxy Miller's Dowry and Esther Wynn's Love Letters were written by another, while Mrs.
White did not speak for a moment or two; then she said, in a slow and deliberate manner, as if reflecting on a problem, "You enjoy Mrs. Philbrick's society, then, do you, Stephen? How much have you seen of her?" Still injudicious and unlike himself, Stephen answered, "Yes, I think I shall enjoy it very much, and I think you will enjoy it more than I shall; for you may see great deal of her.
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