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Updated: May 16, 2025
Why should he not do the magnificent thing? Miss Prettyman's eloquence was so strong that it half convinced him that the Barchester Club and Mr Walker had come to a wrong conclusion after all. "And how does Miss Crawley bear it?" he asked, desirous of postponing for a while any declaration of his own purpose. "She is very unhappy, of course. Not that she thinks evil of her father."
Think what I should feel if I were the cause of Edith losing her fortune!" "But why do you suppose these terrible things?" "I have a reason for supposing them. This must be a secret. Miss Anne Prettyman wrote to me." "I wish Miss Anne Prettyman's hand had been in the fire." "No, mamma; no, she was right.
Caudle, you shall ever have a key. I know you. Yes; you'd do exactly like that Prettyman, and what did he do, only last Wednesday? Why, he let himself in about four in the morning, and brought home with him his pot-companion, Puffy. His dear wife woke at six, and saw Prettyman's dirty boots at her bedside. And where was the wretch, her husband? Why, he was drinking downstairs swilling.
But she need not have been in so great a hurry. She had been at home already above a fortnight, and as yet he had made no sign. At last she said a word to her mother. "Might I not ask to go back to Miss Prettyman's now, mamma?" "I think, dear, you had better wait till things are a little settled. Papa is to hear again from the dean very soon.
And Miss Prettyman's got it and a lot of the other folks at Shadyside. Oh, my eye!" "Are you fooling us, Bob?" demanded Betty. "Honor bright! It is just as I say. Of course, it all isn't in the messages the two schools have sent out to 'parents and guardians. That is the way the messages are headed, you know. But the Shadyside Mirror has come, too, and tells all about it.
"But alas, it wasn't altogether a mistake," Robinette had to confess sadly, her eyes filling with tears as she realized how she had only doubled her old friend's disappointment. Then she sat forward and took Mrs. Prettyman's hand in hers.
In autumn the branches on that side of the tree were the first to be shaken, lest any of the fruit should fall down and be lost. Sometimes a village child treading cautiously on bare toes amongst the stones along the narrow margin, would pounce upon a plum with a squeal of joy, for although the village was surrounded with orchards, the fruit of Mrs. Prettyman's tree had a flavour all its own.
At Wittisham several of the little houses had crept down very close to the river. Mrs. Prettyman's cottage was just like a hive made for the habitation of some gigantic bee; its pointed roof covered with deep, close-cut thatch the colour of a donkey's hide.
"And yet, can a fellow sit tight all the time and just wait till things happen?" "Ask me something else!" suggested Lavendar ironically. There was a short pause. "I'm awfully sorry old Mrs. Prettyman's dead," Carnaby said in a very subdued tone. "I meant to do a lot for her, to try and make up for my grandmother's being such a beast."
For of all the teachers, Miss Prettyman alone had been available as chaperone, and to go to town under Miss Prettyman's eagle eye was anything but an exciting experience. She was usually bent on "improving" the minds of her charges, and she improved them with serene disregard of the victims' tastes and interests.
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