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"I guess if I had a girl I wouldn't set her to unpacking your trunk," said Sylvia, vigorously. "Where is your key?" "In my bag," replied Rose, and she searched for the key in her dark-blue, gold-trimmed bag. "Mrs. Wilton's maid, Anne, packed my trunk for me," she said. "Anne packs very nicely. Mr.
I am being taught to rob on a larger scale." "Oh, sir!" exclaimed the landlord, not at all understanding Wilton's allusion to his political pursuits, "all these gentlemen keep the highway a horseback too. This foot-padding is only done just for a bit of amusement, and because the Colonel is out of the way. He would be very angry if he knew it.
Wilton's spurs instantly touched his horse's side, and he rode quickly down the slope towards the bridge, which he well remembered, when a scene was suddenly presented to his view, which for a moment puzzled and confounded him.
But the common mind does not care for such property. Was not the blue, uplifted, hoping sky, that spoke to the sky inside Richard was not that sir Wilton's? Yes, indeed; for were it not sir Wilton's, it could not be Richard's. But sir Wilton did not claim it, because he did not care for it, heard no sound of the speech it uttered.
The expulsion of the reprobates with whom he had consorted, his degradation and censure, Wilton's theft and removal, the violent tension and revulsion of feeling caused by his awakened conscience, his confession, and the gnawing sense of shame, the failure of his ambition, and then his mother's death coming as the awful climax of the calamities he had undergone, and followed by the cold unfeeling harshness of his guardian, and the damping of his hopes all these things had broken the boy's spirit utterly.
Lord Sherbrooke at the same moment took leave of them, and left the room; and Lady Laura, without quitting her position by Wilton's side, which she seemed to consider a place of sure refuge and support, held out her hand to the Lady Helen, saying, "Oh, how can I thank you, lady, for all your kindness? Had it not been for you, I should never have obtained this deliverance."
He did not know why he did, for, so far from there being anything obviously repulsive in Wilton's look or manners, there were many who thought him the picture of innocence, and considered his manners quite perfection in their politeness and good breeding.
"Where is she going to eat?" demanded Sylvia, inexorably. Rose gazed at her. "She could have a little table in here, or in the parlor," said Sylvia. Rose laughed. "Oh, that would never do!" said she. "Of course there was a servants' dining-room at Mrs. Wilton's, and there always is in a hotel, you know. I never thought of that." "She has got to eat somewhere.
"Canon Wilton's coming in presently," said Mrs. Chetwinde. "He's preaching at St. Paul's this afternoon, or perhaps it's Westminster Abbey something of that kind." "I've heard him two or three times," answered Dion, who was on very good, though not on very intimate, terms with Canon Wilton. "I'd rather hear him than anybody." "In the pulpit yes, I suppose so. I'm scarcely an amateur of sermons.
The Hopper carried Billie out to his Grandfather Wilton's car, while Humpy walked beside him bearing the gifts from the Happy Hill Farm Christmas tree. From the door Mary watched them depart amid a chorus of merry Christmases, out of which Billie's little pipe rang cheerily.
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