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And it suddenly rushed into my mind that the time would no doubt come when the conduct of apples, being plucked from the mother tree, would inspire us, and we should say: "They're really very good!" And I wondered, were those future watchers of apple-gathering farther from me than I, watching sheep-shearing, from the postman?
The next morning Don Ippolito did not come, but in the afternoon the postman brought a letter for Mrs. Vervain, couched in the priest's English, begging her indulgence until after the day of Corpus Christi, up to which time, he said, he should be too occupied for his visits of ordinary. This letter reminded Mrs. Vervain that they had not seen Mr.
Carling's maid. She had taken the letters from the postman, and she was going away with them upstairs. He stopped her, and asked her why she did not put the letters on the hall table as usual. The maid, looking very much confused, said that her mistress had desired that whatever the postman had brought that morning should be carried up to her room.
When Pierston got to his floor again he found that the cellar door was open; some bottles were standing empty that had been full, and many abstracted altogether. All other articles in the house, however, appeared to be intact. His letter to his housekeeper lay in the box as the postman had left it.
A little patience was all that was needed now, for everything was in readiness, and Siegfrid needed only a word to appear before them in all her splendor. The 16th and 17th passed, and still no Ole, nor did the postman bring any letter from Newfoundland. "There is no cause for anxiety, little sister," Joel said, again and again. "A sailing-vessel is always subject to delays.
After each day's disappointment, she closed her eyes saying, 'It will come to-morrow. During the hours she spent at home the only event that interested her was the passing of the postman.
Patsy, the postman and the newsgatherers, who left the headquarters of the company and wandered over to the Grand Pacific where the strikers held forth, must have been struck forcibly by the vast difference in the appearance of the two places upon this particular morning.
It was a blue telegraph-service envelope, and had been forwarded on by the postman from Crocodile Creek, the nearest telegraph station. In the last fifteen months they had brought the bush railway a good deal further up the river, and Crocodile Creek was the present terminus. Thus the road journey was now considerable shorter than when Colin McKeith had brought his bride home.
Two hundred a year and not a penny she could call her own! She consulted her heart, and that faithful organ responded with a bound that set her nerves quivering. If she could only screw her courage to the sticking-point the question would be settled for once and all. White and trembling she sat at breakfast on the first of November, waiting for the postman, while the unconscious Mr.
Ain't I fallin' over him mornin', noon, and night, and the postman telling all over the block he's my steady company that snip that's not eighteen yet? And don't I do the washin'? And will you look round the place and count the things I've got to do up every week? And don't he talk to me in that lingo of his, so I don't know whether he's askin' for a cup of coffee or insultin' me?"
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