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Updated: June 19, 2025
Ha'n't ye never caught your breath an' felt the tears swellin' when ye saw a regiment swing up the street? Miss Quiney. Ah! . . . Is it like that? Mrs. Strongtharm. It's like all that, an' more. . . . An' though I've wet my pillow afore now with envy of it, I thank the Lord for givin' a barren woman the knowledge. A pause. Mrs. What wonderful patterns they make in the carpets nowadays!
"Look at her, there, kickin' like a cast ewe. . . ." He turned a serious face on Ruth and added, "Vigorous, too, for her years." Ruth, returning to the verandah, bent over little Miss Quiney, who sat unsmiling, with rigid eyes. "Dear Tatty," she kissed her "were they so very dreadful?" Miss Quiney started as if awaking from a nightmare.
For eighteen months he, the master of this demesne, had not set foot within its front gate; not once since the day when on a sudden resolution he had installed Ruth Josselin here, under ward of Miss Quiney, to be visited and instructed in theology, the arts, and the sciences, by such teachers as that unparagoned spinster might, with his approval, select.
He will thank you to-morrow that you disobeyed." "I shall not disobey." Little Miss Quiney, looking up into her ward's eyes, argued this point no further. "Very well," said she. "Then I go too." She closed her mouth firmly, squaring her jaw. "But in the sedan there is room for one only." "Then I go first," said Miss Quiney, "and the chair shall return for you.
The effort flushed him; but Miss Quiney, with an inclination of the head, slipped into the seat as though she had seen nothing unusual. "And it gives me the occasion," she continued respectfully, as her eyes passed over the form of young Manley opposite, who stood with his glass at an angle, spilling its wine on the mahogany, "of expressing I thank you. . . . What? Is it Mr. Silk?
Fynes," he called sharply, "oblige me, please, by silencing that clergyman with a napkin in his mouth, if necessary." He turned again to Miss Quiney. "Madam," he said, offering his arm, "let me lead you to a seat by Sir Oliver." The little lady accepted with a curtsy. A faint flush showed upon either cheek bone, and in her eyes could be read the light of battle.
But the poet saw little of his family or of the three children of his union, and at the time of his public return to Stratford little Hamnet Shakespeare died, in his twelfth year. Susanna married, in 1607, the Puritan physician John Hall. Judith the twin married Mr. Thomas Quiney in the year of her father's death.
To be sure Miss Quiney had never hinted this punishment for her employer, or even a remote chance of it, and Dicky's good breeding had kept him from confronting her major premise with the particular instance of his father, although the conclusion of that syllogism meant everything to him.
If you don't look out, one of these days you'll turn into an old maid just like Miss Quiney." "Hs-s-sh! She's downstairs somewhere." "I don't care if she hears." Dicky ran his eyes defiantly along the line of ground-floor windows under the verandah, then upturned his face again. "After coming all this way on purpose to play with you," he protested. "You have made yourself dreadfully hot."
"So you are the young woman!" ejaculated Lady Caroline. "Am I?" said Ruth quietly, and after a profound curtsy turned sideways to the mare. "A lump of sugar, Tatty, if you please. . . . I thank you, ma'am " as Mrs. Harry, anticipating Miss Quiney, stepped forward with a piece held between the sugar-tongs. "And I think she even deserves a second, for clearing the yard gate."
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