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Updated: June 24, 2025
While the boys ate a hastily prepared luncheon of bread and molasses and drank hot tea they related their experiences, interrupted by Mrs. Twig, who was cooking a substantial dinner of stewed rabbit, with frequent exclamations of concern or sympathy. "Vi'let and I were worryin' and worryin' about you lads, when the storm comes," confessed Mrs. Twig. "We were fearin' you'd be comin' in the boat.
For her riding- dress was the exact copy of that worn by her pictured ancestress "Mary Elia, even to the three-cornered hat and the tiny rose fastened in the bodice which was turned back with embroidered gold revers, so that the 'lady in the vi'let velvet' appeared before him as it were, re-incarnated, and the pouting lips, sweet eyes and radiant hair were all part of the witch-glamour and mystery!
'I have been at Ventnor, getting through the Crusaders, and keeping house with Violet and her child, who both wanted sea air. 'What's her name? 'Violet. 'Well, that beats all! Violet! Why, Vi'let was what they called the old black cart-horse! I hope the child is Cowslip or Daisy! 'No, he is John, my godson. 'John! You might as well be called Man! It is no name at all.
"Thank you," and Marks took a seat. "Nippy out. Hot tea is warming. Trout good too. Regular feast!" "The lads and Vi'let just catches the trout this morning." When he was through eating, Marks donned his adikey, and went out of doors to release his dogs from harness.
But I held my tongue, and out she went, takin' no more notice of me than she did of Vi'let, nor half so much, for I see her kind o' look towards the old woman, as if she was half a mind to ask her for a fourpence-ha'penny. Well, that was the last on't for a spell, until after New Year's.
If so, guess I'm fightin' editor. How?" His eyes were on Sunny Oak. And that individual's unwashed face broadened into a cheerful grin. "Fightin' don't come under the headin' of work proper," he said. "Guess I'm in." Bill turned on Sandy. "You ain't got the modest beauty o' the vi'let," he said, with saturnine levity. "How you feelin'?" "Sure good," exclaimed the widower.
He was not even quite sure that he considered her in any way out of the common, so far as her beauty was concerned, though he recognised that she was almost the living image of 'the lady in the vi'let velvet' whose portrait adorned the gallery in Abbot's Manor.
It was culpable sorrow too, somewhat, in that he had not prevented it, and a heart-hardening sorrow in that it took the best that he loved. "She jes' collapsed, Bud sudden't like wilted like a vi'let that's stepped on, an' the Doctor says she's got no sho' at all, ther' bein' nothin' to build on.
So she changed the subject. "That's a nice little girl I see sometimes down at your place. That Winny Dymond. Is she a friend of Vi'let's?" Ranny said she was. "Has Vi'let known her long?" "I think so. I can't say exactly how long." "Before she was married?" "Yes." Something in his manner made her pause, pondering. "Did you know her before you married, Ran?" "Ages before." His mother sighed.
Skipper Zeb exclaimed, genially, warming his hands before the fire. "Here we are safe and sound and none of us lost, as I were fearin' when we strikes the rock we might be! All of us saved by the mercy of the Lard! How is you feelin' now, Vi'let?" "I feels fine, with the fire," answered Violet, who was snuggling close to her mother. "That's pluck; now!
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