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Updated: May 28, 2025
The postbag, that evening it came late contained a letter for me, which, however, in the hand of my employer, I found to be composed but of a few words enclosing another, addressed to himself, with a seal still unbroken. "This, I recognize, is from the headmaster, and the headmaster's an awful bore. Read him, please; deal with him; but mind you don't report. Not a word. I'm off!"
He saw it stamped, and put into the postbag, and then his last gleam of hope flickered out; he must give up struggling against the Inevitable; he must resign himself to be educated, and perhaps flogged here, while Dick was filling his house with clowns and pantaloons, destroying his reputation and damaging his credit at home.
Hamilton had a sister who wrote wittily and charmingly every week, and there was another girl ... Still, two letters and a bright pink paper or two made a modest postbag by the side of Lieutenant Tibbetts' mail.
Even at this distance I seemed to catch the inspiring flash of her dark eyes, to follow the words which fell from her lips so gravely. And as I watched a new idea came to me. I turned slowly away and went in search of the Duke. I found him sitting fully dressed in an anteroom leading from his bedroom, with a great pile of letters before him, and an empty postbag.
Thought, she felt, would come in time, and with it new pains and new shames, of which as yet she dared not think. One morning came an envelope directed in Harold's hand. The sight made her almost faint. She rejoiced that she had been first down, and had opened the postbag with her own key. She took the letter to her room and shut herself in before opening it.
I laughed and quoted the Latin tag about the ingenuous boy of the ingenuous visage and ingenuous modesty. "Because I don't feverishly search the postbag for a letter from Miss Faversham you conclude I'm a bloodless automaton?" "Please don't say any more about it, Simon," he pleaded in deep distress. A sudden idea struck me.
And the grace of her diction will to a certain extent testify to her ladylike deportment and the entire breadth of her education. "I need add no more. I have thought deeply over this matter, and trust my subject will meet with universal approval. "Yours very truly, "JOHN WALLIS." Amongst the many duties which fell to the care of Bertha Keys was the one of looking after the postbag.
While Clara had gone one day to return a visit from Lady Bygrave, Miss Pemberton received and opened the postbag. It contained a letter for Clara from India. She saw that it was from Harry. She turned it over several times. "I must obey my spiritual adviser," she said to herself; "it can do the child no harm." Replacing several other letters for Clara, she took this one up into her own room.
Bertha Keys had gone away on the previous evening to visit a sick cousin, and in consequence had not the charge of the postbag. She was very unwilling to leave at this critical moment, but the cousin was ill, required her services. Mrs. Clavering was willing to spare her for one night, there was no help for it; she must go.
"He is a people's man, of course, and his proposals will sound pretty terrible to a good many of the old school. Still, something of the sort has to come." The butler brought in the postbag while they talked. Segerson, as he rose to depart, glanced with curiosity at half a dozen orange-coloured wrappers which were among the rest of the letters.
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