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That's why she kept plants all winter in the little sitting-room at home, and nursed one cactus that gave out a scarlet bloom once in so many months. It was Miss Maria Furgusson, of Boston summer boarder at the next cottage; second floor, six dollars a week, including washing that revived, kept alive, in fact, fanned to fever heat, Abbie's first impression of the poster.
But will Ralph ever forget the little sweet smile which illumined for a moment the pure young face, as she turned confiding eyes on him? Thenceforth there dawned a new era in Abbie's life. Ralph, for reasons best known to himself, chose to be released from his vacation engagements in a neighboring city, and remained closely at home.
Abbie's eyes were shining like the disks of a brass letter scale and almost as large they were still upon Maria. "The money?" "No, the stock." "Why, send Mr. Keep the money and he buys the stock and sends you back the certificate. Want to see mine? I've got it pinned in Here it is." Abbie opened the door of the glass partition and beckoned to the shopgirl.
Some ten or twelve years after her establishment, Professor Valeyon and his family had moved into town. They had not taken up their quarters at Abbie's, though she could easily have accommodated them, as far as room went; a circumstance which caused all the more surprise in some quarters, because there seemed to have been some previous acquaintance between herself and the professor.
Ester had never in her life heard any one talk like that, except, perhaps, that minister who had spoken to her in the depot. His religion seemed not unlike Abbie's. Thinking of him, she suddenly addressed Abbie again.
It must be pretty hard to live in a house where you can't enjoy yourself. I shouldn't think it would seem like home. A man like you NEEDS a good home. Why, how I do run on! "Oh, there ain't really nothin' the matter with the Widow Larkin so fur's smartness is concerned, there ain't. "And for five days more Kenelm ate his meals at Abbie's and smoked and was happy, happier'n he'd been for months.
An expression not unlike that of a hunted deer shone for a moment in Abbie's eyes. Then she spoke, in tones almost despairing: "O mother, mother, you can not understand." Tone, or words, or both, vexed Mrs. Ried afresh, and she spoke with added sharpness.
She had begun to suspect that it might not even be quite so easy as it was in a quiet country home; and so one by one all her explanations of Abbie's peculiar character had become bubbles, and had vanished as bubbles do. What, then, sustained and guided her cousin? Clearly Ester was shut up to this one conclusion it was an ever-abiding, all-pervading Christian faith and trust.
I can feel that, you know, just as much when he's at Abbie's, as when he's here. The happiness of love isn't all in seeing and hearing, and all that tangible part." "Don't it make any difference, then, if you never Bee one another from the day you're engaged until you're married?" Sophie began to blush, as she generally did when called upon to speak of her love.
"Yes, he said he'd be down. He doesn't seem to be used to society. Miss Cornelia told me she thought it would do him good to begin, so I went up the other day and asked him." "Oh! humph!" said the old gentleman, who had vainly endeavored to catch Abbie's eye while she was speaking.
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