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The little girls must not grow up to see their father put in the second place, to think him an irritable tyrant. No, it must not continue, not for a day. And there occurred to Theo, when he approached the gate of Markland, something like the same experience which had befallen Geoff.

"That is not the phaeton, mamma; that is only one horse," said Geoff, whose senses were very keen. When Lady Markland had listened a little longer, she acquiesced in this opinion. "It will be some one coming to call," she said, with an air of resignation; and then they went on with their talk. "Gentlemen are different; they don't take the charge of the children like you.

Markland seems not to have the slightest suspicion, and says that he will take the whole forty thousand interest himself, if necessary. He was going, immediately, to New York, to consult with Mr. Fenwick. A good move. Fenwick understands himself thoroughly, and will manage our gentleman. "Get the enclosed safely into the hands of Fanny, and with as little delay as possible.

Finally, he announced to his family that he must leave them, to be gone at least two or three months. The intelligence came with a shock that partially aroused Fanny from the lethargic state into which she had fallen. Mrs. Markland made only a feeble, tearful opposition.

I should have thought that everybody near would be thinking of the Warrenders, and It is coming very fast, don't you think? But it does not sound like the phaeton." "Oh no, it is not the phaeton. I'll go and look," said Geoff. He came back in a moment, crying, "I told you it's a brougham! Coming at such a pace!" "I wonder who it can be!" Lady Markland said.

"And," repeated Warrender, a crimson flush coming to his face which had been so pale, "I'll go and explain to Lady Markland." "Oh, if you're in a hurry to go, never mind, Theo! I'll tell mamma." Warrender looked at Geoff with a blank but angry gaze. "I told you to run out and play," he said, his voice sounding harsh and strange. "It's very bright out of doors. It will be better for you."

Markland, who saw that his generous-minded neighbour was providing for his family a house worth almost double the rent that was to be paid, he carried out all his projected improvements. "You will embarrass me with a sense of obligation," said Mr. Markland, in seeking to turn him from a certain purpose regarding the cottage. "Do not say so," answered Mr.

She went up to him, holding out her hands in an almost speechless appeal. "Why for me? Why for me? What has it got to do with me?" He did not know how to answer her question. "Lady Markland!" he cried, "your husband " and said no more. She was at the door of the brougham in a moment. She had not taken off her garden hat, and she wanted no preparation.

That was as great an impossibility as that he should be prime minister or Archbishop of Canterbury. But yet it was a little odd that he should be so particular about keeping up the accidental connection with Lady Markland. This showed that he was not so indifferent to retaining his place in the county and keeping up all local ties as she thought.

Chatty asked with bated breath whether there was not something wicked and terrible in the thought that Lady Markland, a woman who was married, and who had been consoled in her affliction by the clergyman and all her friends reminding her that her husband was not lost but gone before, and that she would meet him again, that she should be loved and wooed by another man.