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Updated: May 28, 2025
Her head sank; her wasted figure trembled; a few tears dropped slowly on the bosom of her shabby dress. She tried, desperately tried, to control herself. "I beg your pardon, sir," was all she could say; "I am not very well." Miss Wigger tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the door. "Are you well enough to see your way out?" she asked.
The maid-of-all-work audaciously put her head in at the door, and interrupted Miss Wigger conducting the education of the first-class. "If you please, miss, there's a gentleman " Having uttered these introductory words, she was reduced to silence by the tremendous voice of her mistress. "Haven't I forbidden you to come here in school hours? Go away directly!"
At the same time, I am afraid I must own that the advertisement has produced a favorable impression on me." "I fail entirely to see why," Miss Wigger remarked. "There is surely," Linley repeated, "something straightforward I might almost say, something innocent in the manner in which the writer expresses herself.
And whilst this conversation was going on, Mr. and Mrs. Dalmaine sat after dinner on the balcony of their hotel, talking occasionally. Dalmaine smoked a cigar: his eyes betrayed the pleasures of digestion and thought on high matters of State. He said all at once: 'By-the-by, Lady Wigger is at the Queen's Hotel, I see. You will call to-morrow. 'Lady Wigger?
The child looked at the formidable female creature with the man's voice and the green spectacles. "You belong to me," said Miss Wigger, by way of encouragement, "and I have come to take you away." At those dreadful words, terror shook little Syd from head to foot. She fell on her knees with a cry of misery that might have melted the heart of a savage. "Oh, mamma, mamma, don't leave me behind!
They saw one of Mother Nature's favorite daughters; designed to be the darling of her family, and the conqueror of hearts among men of all tastes and ages. But Sydney Westerfield had lived for six weary years in the place of earthly torment, kept by Miss Wigger under the name of a school.
Linley approached her, and said his few kind words before Miss Wigger could assert herself for the third time. "I am afraid I have taken a liberty in answering you personally, when I ought to have answered by letter. My only excuse is that I have no time to arrange for an interview, in London, by correspondence. I live in Scotland, and I am obliged to return by the mail to-night." He paused.
What use would the teacher make of that half hour of freedom? In the meanwhile Miss Wigger had entered her drawing-room. With the slightest possible inclination of her head, she eyed the stranger through her green spectacles. Even under that disadvantage his appearance spoke for itself. The servant's estimate of him was beyond dispute. Mr.
Being a mortal creature, the schoolmistress was accessible to the promptings of curiosity. She snatched the card out of the girl's hand. Mr. Herbert Linley, Mount Morven, Perthshire. "I don't know this person," Miss Wigger declared. "You wretch, have you let a thief into the house?" "A gentleman, if ever I see one yet," the servant asserted. "Hold your tongue! Did he ask for me? Do you hear?"
The tone in which the mistress had spoken had evidently not shaken her resolution, so far. "I wish to know," she said, "if this gentleman desires to see me on the subject of my advertisement?" "Your advertisement?" Miss Wigger repeated. "Miss Westerfield! how dare you beg for employment in a newspaper, without asking my leave?"
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