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Updated: May 18, 2025
It proved to be Miss Weston's lost song, creased, torn, dust-stained, and spoiled; she carried it to Emily, who decided that nothing could be done but to copy it for Alethea, and apologise for the disaster.
"I wonder he did not remember the book" was all Harriet's answer, and spoken with a degree of grave displeasure which Emma thought might be safely left to itself. She, therefore, said no more for some time. Her next beginning was, "In one respect, perhaps, Mr. Elton's manners are superior to Mr. Knightley's or Mr. Weston's. They have more gentleness. They might be more safely held up as a pattern.
She wanted, rather, to be quiet, and out of temptation; but still, as it was desirable that she should appear, in general, like her usual self, she took care to express as much interest in the circumstance, and enter as warmly into Mr. and Mrs. Weston's disappointment, as might naturally belong to their friendship. She was the first to announce it to Mr.
She put out her hand shyly, awkwardly, and touched Alison's cheek. Alison smiled, laughed with a sob in her voice. "It is a long while since I cried," she said, and put her arms round Mrs. West on and laid her head on Mrs. Weston's bosom and cried indeed. Mrs. Weston held her close. "Alison! But this isn't like you." "Indeed it is," Alison sobbed. You behold Mr.
The few weeks of abstinence and healthful toil had made a change in him, but one cannot in that space of time get rid of the results of years of indulgence; and under stress of excitement the man became confused and fanciful. "I'm not sure. I'm trying to think," he said, laying a lean, trembling hand on Weston's arm.
Anita, she's busy. Anyhow, I seen plenty of scenery. I'd rather be here." "Talking to a woman old enough to be your mother?" "Huh! I never thought of you like that. I'm only eighteen. Anyhow, what difference does it make how old a lady is, if she is pretty?" Mrs. Weston's eyes twinkled. "Do you ever pay compliments to yourself when you are combing your hair or tying your scarf?" "Me!
There were some fine, noble women on his board, but also some interfering busy-bodies, who were always starting disagreeable discussions, such as how much sugar a little child should be allowed and how important it was that vanity should not be encouraged in the girls. Business and finance were not Dr. Weston's strong points.
At first the sight of his dead comrade had driven all other thoughts from Weston's mind, but now he was compelled to admit that he had wasted time and money on a delusion. That perhaps was no great matter in itself, but it made it clear that all he could look for was to earn food and shelter as a packer, logging-hand, or wandering laborer.
Weston's vigilant eye and whisk Bobby off to a certain favored nook on the boat-deck just outside the captain's state-room. Here they had spent many happy evenings, notwithstanding the fact that their figures, silhouetted against the light, had never failed to provoke the captain to a profanity that was not always inaudible.
In his place, with a bark and a bound, came a lithe setter, a perfect stranger to me, and Mary seized the long head in her hands and cried: "Why, Flash good Flash." She completely ignored my last remark, and patted the dog and talked to him. "Isn't he a beauty?" she cried. "He is Mr. Weston's." "Whose?" I asked, concealing my irritation. "Mr. Weston and who is Mr. Weston?"
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