But May Nell recovered almost before Mrs. Bennett had time to lift her. “I often do—do—faint,” she apologized, “it isn’t—isn’t ’t all dangerous.” She smiled at Mrs. Bennett, and the smile, the sweet, pale little face with her hair a shining golden halo around it, made of her an ethereal being almost unreal to the awestricken children. Yet she was soon merry again, apparently as well as ever.
mpl.live, “What’s the trouble, dear? What were you afraid of?” she enquired, as she raised him to his feet.
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mpl.live The kettle which had been boiling itself hoarse for the last hour, was now called into requisition..
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