The blow so long expected, yet so eagerly and hopefully scoffed at with obstinate persistency, falls at last (all too soon) upon the Towers. Perhaps it is not the very final blow that when it comes must shatter to atoms all the old home-ties, and the tender links that youth has forged, but it is certainly a cruel shaft, that touches the heart strings, making them quiver. The first thin edge of the wedge has been inserted: the sword trembles to its fall: c'est le commencement de la fin.,
The teapot, meanwhile, is calmly ignoring its rage, and is positively turning up its nose at it. It is a very proud old teapot, and is looking straight before it, in a very dignified fashion, at a martial row of cups and saucers that are drawn up in battle-array and are only waiting for the word of command to march upon the enemy.,
"Yet I was not so wholly engrossed as you imagine," she says, seriously. "I thought of you many times. For one thing, I felt glad that you could see this place with my eyes. But I have been silent, I know; and—and——".
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