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Updated: May 24, 2025
Again, and this time not before any house but in a wild piece of woodland, the little wagon came to a stop. "Aint there some holly berries that I see yonder?" said Mr. Ringgan, "there, through those white birch stems? That's what you were wanting, Fleda, aint it? Give your bittersweet to me while you go get some, and here, take this knife, dear, you can't break it. Don't cut yourself."
Ringgan no safe subject for either braving or overreaching. Fleda's keen-sighted affection was heartily gratified by the manner in which her grandfather was greeted by at least one of his guests, and that the one about whose opinion she cared the most. Mr. Carleton seemed as little sensible of the cold room as Mr. Ringgan himself.
"But," said his companion, with a look in which not a little haughty reserve was mingled with a desire to speak out his thoughts, "half the world are busy about hum-drum concerns and the other half doing nothing, or worse." "I don't know about that," said Mr. Ringgan; "that depends upon the way you take things. 'Tain't always the men that make the most noise that are the most good in the world.
I can't go about and see to things any more as I used to. However we must expect evils at my time of life. I don't complain. I have a great deal to be thankful for." "Yes, Sir, we have a great deal to be thankful for," said Mr. Jolly, rather abstractedly, and patting the old mare with kind attention. "Have you seen that fellow, McGowan?" said Mr. Ringgan, abruptly, and in a lower tone.
But the lips were quite grave now, and Thorn's keen eyes discerned that upon one or two of the artificial roses there lay two or three very natural drops. "Mr. Carleton," said Edith, "what makes you talk such sober things? you have set Miss Ringgan to crying." "Mr. Carleton could not be better pleased than at such a tribute to his eloquence," said Mr. Thorn, with a saturnine expression.
She visited the long meadow and the height that stretched along it, and even went so far as the extremity of the valley, at the foot of the twenty-acre lot, and then stood still to gather up the ends of memory. There she had gone chestnutting with Mr. Ringgan thither she had guided Mr.
"Politics?" said Mr. Ringgan. "It is to lose oneself in a seething-pot, where the scum is the most apparent thing." "But there is society?" said Rossitur. "Nothing better or more noble than the succession of motes that flit through a sunbeam into oblivion." "Well, why not then sit down quietly on one's estates and enjoy them, one who has enough?" "And be a worm in the heart of an apple."
Evelyn's. Fleda was very early. She ran up to the first floor rooms lighted and open, but nobody there. "Fleda Ringgan," called out the voice of Constance from over the stairs, "is that you?" "No," said Fleda. "Well, just wait till I come down to you. My darling little Fleda, it's delicious of you to come so early. Now, just tell me, am I captivating?"
Ringgan, calmly, folding his hands, "that will do! That trust wont fail, for it is founded upon a rock. 'He is a rock; and he knoweth them that put their trust in him! I have been a fool to doubt ever that he would make all things work well 'The Lord will provide!"
"Why of course, but you will observe, Miss Ringgan, that at that day the world was unenlightened on a great many points; since then we have cast off the wrong which we then shared with the rest of mankind." "Ay sir, but not until we had first repudiated it and Englishmen had desired to force it back upon us at the point of the sword. Four times" "But my dear Fleda," interrupted Mrs.
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