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It was now close upon the hour, and Isabella was wondering how she could get rid of Dido, whom she did not wish to be present at the coming interview. The inborn jealousy of the woman, and her advocacy of Dr. Etwald's suit, made her an unpleasant third at such a meeting. Moreover, Maurice instinctively disliked this sullen creature, and was never quite easy in her presence.,

It was hard work later on, when they had to face the inquiries of the wrathful Judith, to convince her that the whole thing was not a plot against Elinor by some envious rival.,

"She may be, major. There is a warrant out against her for perjury.",

Before his departure he had left a message for David, who had not made his appearance at breakfast, requesting the young man to be in the library at noon.

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At this moment the footman appeared in answer to the bell, and in obedience to his master's peremptory order left the room again for the purpose of bringing in old Battersea for examination. While waiting, neither Lady Meg nor the major spoke, as they both considered, and truly, that nothing further could be said until the truth was forced from the tramp. Then the present aspect of the case might change, and an important step might be taken toward the solution of the mystery.,

"We're going to see the decoration—the one Elinor made for the church, you know," said Patricia to Miriam as they left the festive, disheveled sitting-room to the rejuvenating hands of Hannah Ann and Henry, and went with the chatting crowd into the big studio again. "Bruce wouldn't have the luncheon in here because we couldn't get a good view of it if the place was cluttered up with tables and things. He's fearfully proud of it. He says it's as good as lots of regular artists could do.",

Judith as she kissed him was wrinkling her smooth brows at him. "But I thought you were going to bring Tom Hughes——" she began, hesitatingly.,

"Oh, it's not, it's not that much," I fairly gasped and I couldn't help the tears coming into my eyes. I have never said much about it, but nobody knows how it hurts me to be as—large as I am. Just writing it down in a book mortifies me dreadfully. It's been coming on worse and worse every year since I married. Poor Mr. Carter had a very good appetite, and I don't know why I should have felt that I had to eat so much every day to keep him company; I wasn't always so considerate about him. Then he didn't want me to go for long walks with the dogs any more, because married women oughtn't to, or ride horseback either—no amusement left but himself; and—and—I just couldn't help the tears coming and dripping as I thought about it all and that awful waist measure in inches.