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Updated: June 15, 2025
The first announced that, thanks to Lord Plympton's influence, everything had been arranged, and that, on producing Herbert, and proving him to be the representative of the name 'Hard' found in the list of seamen, his discharge would be granted. The second letter was dated Portsmouth. Herbert had arrived! He was much browner than heretofore, but more robust and manly.
Could she go to Miss Plympton's, to be a dependent upon her at the school? That thought was intolerable. Much as she loved Miss Plympton, she could not descend to that. "You are certainly not very practical," said Dudleigh, "or your first thought would have been about this. But you have none, you say, and so it can not be remedied. Is there any thing else? You see you can escape; but what then?"
"Well, dear," said Miss Plympton, in strangely gentle and mournful voice, "you have never known much about your poor father, and you have never known exactly where he has been living. He did not live in India, dear; he never lived in India. He lived in in Van Diemen's Land." Miss Plympton's tone and look affected Edith very unpleasantly.
"I know that she loves me like a mother, and when I first came here I should have relied on her to the utmost. But now I don't know. At any rate, I think she can be easily terrified." And Edith went on to tell about Miss Plympton's letter to her, and subsequent silence. "I think with you," said Dudleigh, after Edith had ended, "that the letter is a forgery.
The smile on the baronet's face died out at this, and his eyes fixed themselves upon Miss Plympton's face with quick and eager curiosity. Then he turned his face aside. A table stood on his right, with some wine and glasses within reach. "Excuse me," said he; "I beg ten thousand pardons; but won't you take a glass of wine?
On the whole, the Markhams were getting to be "dreadfully stuck up," Eunice Plympton's mother said, while Eunice doubted if she should like living there now as well as in the days of Ethelyn.
That one, with clumsy fingers, he tore open. He exclaimed breathlessly: "It's from PLYMPTON'S MAGAZINE! Maybe I've sold a story!" He gave a cry almost of alarm. His voice was as solemn as though the letter had announced a death. "Dolly," he whispered, "it's a check a check for a HUNDRED DOLLARS!" Guiltily, the two young people looked at each other. "We've GOT to!" breathed Dolly. "GOT to!
In fact, I think that, sad as it may seem to you, there can be no doubt about her illness. You say she left you here. No doubt she felt terrible anxiety. The next day she could not see you. Her love for you, and her anxiety, would, perhaps, be too much for her. She may have been taken home ill." Edith sighed. The picture of Miss Plympton's grief was too much for her.
More than one rumor had reached Melinda's ear touching the pride of Dick Markham's wife a pride which the Olney people felt keenly, and it the more keenly knowing that they had helped to give her husband a name; they had made him Judge, and sent him to Congress, and would like to make him governor, knowing well that that no office, however high, would change him from the plain, unpretending man, who, even in the Senate Chamber, would shake drunken Ike Plympton's hand, and slap Tim Jones on the back if need be.
Miss Plympton's worst apprehensions seemed justified by this rude repulse at the gates, and the moment that Edith came back she began to entreat her to return. "Come back," she said, "to the inn. Do, darling, at least for the night, till we can send word to Wiggins." "No," said Edith, firmly; "I will not recognize Wiggins at all. I am going to dismiss him the moment that I enter the Hall.
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