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Day after day they sought in vain; but there came a morning when news of the lost George's demise came to them from Australia, and then the search grew languid and the will was forgotten. And they hardly took pains even to corroborate the tidings sent them from that far-off land but, accepting the rightful heir's death as a happy fact, ascended the throne, and reigned peacefully for many years.,
His face is slightly flushed, his whole manner full of importance. He advances to where the two girls are sitting, and stops opposite Mona.,
"Good gracious, Mona, whom do you mean?" asks he, aghast both at her look and tone.,
They appear a kindly, gentle, good-humored people,—easily led, no doubt (which is their undoing), but generous to the heart's core; a people who can speak English fluently (though with a rich brogue) and more grammatically than the Sassenachs themselves (of their own class), inasmuch as they respect their aspirates and never put an h in or leave one out in the wrong place.
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It is only the foolish warrior who travels in the day. The wise one knows that war-parties may be out, or that some camp watcher sitting on a hill may see him far off and may try to kill him. Mīka´pi was not one of these foolish persons. He was brave and cautious, and he had powerful helpers. Some have said that he was helped by the ghosts. When he started to war against the Snakes he travelled in low places, and at sunrise he climbed some hill near by and looked carefully over the country in all directions, and during all the long day he lay there and watched, sleeping often, but only for a short time.,
"Oh, I dare say. Yes, sometimes: but—" she hesitates, and this time the expression of her face cannot be misunderstood: dejection betrays itself in every line—"but it is not so with you, is it? No aunt has left you anything?",
A bell tinkles softly in the distance. The early dusk is creeping up from behind the distant hills, that are purple with the soft and glowing heather. The roar of the rushing waves comes from the bay that lies behind those encircling hills, and falls like sound of saddest music on her ear. Now comes,
Then they move on once more, and go down the road that leads towards the farm.
When she has finished, Geoffrey says "thank you" in a low tone. He is thinking of the last time when some one else sang to him, and of how different the whole scene was from this. It was at the Towers, and the hour with its dying daylight, rises before him. The subdued light of the summer eve, the open window, the perfume of the drowsy flowers, the girl at the piano with her small drooping head and her perfectly trained and very pretty voice, the room, the soft silence, his mother leaning back in her crimson velvet chair, beating time to the music with her long jewelled, fingers,—all is remembered.
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Once again they are all at the Towers. Doatie and her brother—who had returned to their own home during March and April—have now come back again to Lady Rodney, who is ever anxious to welcome these two with open arms. It is to be a last visit from Doatie as a "graceful maiden with a gentle brow," as Mary Howitt would certainly have called her, next month having been decided upon as the most fitting for transforming Dorothy Darling into Dorothy Lady Rodney. In this thought both she and her betrothed are perfectly happy.
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"I hardly think so. You can refuse to see people yourself when it suits you. Only yesterday, when Mr. Boer, our rector, called, and I sent for you, you would not come."
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"A fit ending to a miserable day," says Lady Rodney, gloomily.
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>"Would you bite me?" murmurs she, fondly, as the bird flies off again alarmed at the presence of the tall stranger, who already is busy comparing most favorably the face of its mistress with the faces of all the fashionable beauties London has been raving about for eighteen months. "Every morning they torment me like this," she says, turning to Geoffrey, with a little pleasant confidential nod.
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