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"I will be ready to come out to-morrow if you want me," she answered. "Send word by Mr. Harding when he comes in he is going to stay here to-night. You will bring me word, won't you?" she added, turning to Harding. "Is Mr. Gale driving back?" "He is coming now to pick you up here he is," Harding replied as Gale's buggy and pair swung into sight. He helped her in and wrapped a rug round her.
"I'm Belding, and I know who you are," replied Belding in hearty amaze, as he stretched forth his big hand. "You're Dick Gale's Dad the Governor, Dick used to say. I'm sure glad to meet you." "Thank you. Yes, I'm Dick's governor, and here, Mr. Belding Dick's mother and his sister Elsie." Beaming his pleasure, Belding shook hands with the ladies, who showed their agitation clearly. "Mr.
Gale's cottage. The sight of Alice was more than ever annoying to the Vicar. Only you wouldn't have known it. As she grew whiter and weaker he braced himself, and became more hearty and robust. When he caught her lying on the sofa he spoke to her in a robust and hearty tone. "Don't lie there all day, my girl. Get up and go out. What you want is a good blow on the moor." "Yes.
The thought in some curious fashion made it easier for me to cross the room to Lillian Gale's side, extend my hand and say cordially: "How good of you to come this afternoon!" "I know it is unpardonable," Lillian's high pitched voice answered.
The shells did not suit him, so he filled the gun with new ones, loosened the three lower buttons of his vest, and slid the weapon inside his trousers band; then, facing the direction of Gale's trading-post, he spoke aloud. "I was a long time coming, Gaylord, but I'm here, and I've got you where I've wanted you these fifteen years yes, and I've got you, too, Burrell! By God, this is my night!"
Over Lillian Gale's face swept a swift spasm of pain. So quickly was it gone that I would not have noticed it, had not my eyes happened to rest on her face when Mrs. Lester spoke of her baby. Was there a child in that hectic past of hers? I decided there must be.
Miss Gale's color came and went, and her eyes sparkled. "Oh, how good you are! Is there a hospital?" "County hospital, and infirmary, within three miles. Fine country for disease. Intoxication prevalent, leading to a bountiful return of accidents. I promise you wounds, bruises, and putrefying sores, and everything to make you comfortable." "Oh, don't laugh at me.
Gale's Corporation System in Ireland, App. p. cxxvi. My object in these remarks has been to enable the reader to form a correct notion of the manner in which Cromwell conducted the war in Ireland. They will give little satisfaction to the worshippers of the hero. But his character is not a mere matter of taste or sympathy. It is a question of historic inquiry.
We passed from Shepherd's Inn into Holborn, and looked for a while at Woodgate's bric-a-brac shop, which I never can pass without delaying at the windows indeed, if I were going to be hung, I would beg the cart to stop, and let me have one look more at that delightful omnium gatherum. And passing Woodgate's, we come to Gale's little shop, "No. 47," which is also a favorite haunt of mine. Mr.
He seemed a stranger to all present, and his eye roved about for the charming hostess Steele had told him of. "We'll reach Miss Van Allen presently." Steele laughed, in answer to the glance, "if, indeed, we dare interrupt her game. Let's make progress slowly." "No hurry," returned Somers, affably, beaming on Cassie Weldon and meeting Ariadne Gale's receptive smile.
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