Winifred's features would have been pretty, for they were regular and delicately formed, if they had not been slightly marked by the small-pox;—a disorder, that sometimes spares more than it destroys, and imparts an expression to be sought for in vain in the smoothest complexion. “Look at our clothes,” she exclaimed, “and besides, the funny little proprietor has gone down himself to help it along. He understood. "In favour of my son.
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