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"So you would rather walk with Miss Wykoff, than your mother?" The tears started into the eyes of Constance, and twining her arms around the neck of her mother, she murmured, "No, no, dear mother! How could you think so?"
"And has ridden in her own carriage, no doubt. It's the story of two-thirds of your sewing girls." Mrs. Lowe laughed in an unsympathetic, contemptuous way. "I happen to know that it is true in Mary Carson's case," said Mrs. Wykoff. "Mary Carson. Is that her name?" "Yes." "Passing from her antecedents, as the phrase now is, which are neither here nor there," said Mrs.
I don't wonder you were faint just now." Miss Carson bent to her work and made no answer. Mrs. Wykoff sat regarding her for some time with a look of human interest, and then went out. A little before two o'clock there was a tap at the door, and the waiter came in, bearing a tray. There was a nicely-cooked chop, toast, and some tea, with fruit and a custard. "Mrs.
The whiteness around her mouth gave place to a ruddier tint; her face no longer wore an exhausted air; the glassy lustre of her eyes was gone. "I feel like myself again," she said, as she left the sofa, and resumed her sewing chair. "How is your side now?" asked Mrs. Wykoff. "Easier. I scarcely perceive the pain." "Hadn't you better lie still a while longer?" "No, ma'am. I am all right now.
I am, therefore, thrown upon the world at this very crisis, like a sailor cast upon the ocean, with but a plank to sustain himself, and keep his head above the waves. When I married Miss Jackson, it was with the resolution to rise rapidly, and show to the world that she had not chosen thoughtlessly. Of course, I expected the aid of Rensselaer, Wykoff & Co.
"One day set to work in an orderly, well ventilated room, and on the next cooped up with children in a small apartment, the air of which is little less than poison to your weak lungs." "These differences must always occur, Mrs. Wykoff," replied Miss Carson, in a quiet uncomplaining voice. "How could it be otherwise?
"You are sure she didn't go into the kitchen and dry her feet?" "She went up stairs as soon as she came in." "Did you go up with her?" "Yes." "Excuse me, Mrs. Lowe," said Mrs. Wykoff, who saw that these questions were chafing her visitor, "for pressing my inquiries so closely. I am much concerned at the fact of her absence from your house since Monday.
Wykoff, "I will go to see her this afternoon." "I wish you would. What you have said makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I hope there is nothing wrong; or, at least, that she is only slightly indisposed. It was thoughtless in me. But I was so much interested in the work she was doing that I never once thought of her personally." "Did she come before breakfast?" "Oh, yes."
Away from her temples and forehead the hair has been smoothly brushed by loving hands, and there is a spiritual beauty in her face that is suggestive of heaven. Mrs. Grant is on one side of the bed, and the physician on the other. Both are gazing intently on the sick girl's face. The door opens, and two ladies come in, noiselessly Mrs. Lowe and Mrs. Wykoff.
"I never blamed you for a moment, Mrs. Wykoff. You didn't think; and I'd rather not say anything about it. If I'd been as well as usual on that day, it wouldn't have happened." "You'd passed a sleepless night?" said Mrs. Wykoff. "Yes, ma'am." "The consequence of fatigue and exhaustion?" "Perhaps that was the reason." "And couldn't eat any breakfast?" "I drank a cup of coffee." "Very well.
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