We felt like thieves. “Mr. ’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. Then they would leave and she would go back to being alone. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. We are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each day. . Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. But they were too late. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. I have two days in which to earn nearly thirty shillings—that is with no dinners, and get a situation. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON.
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