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"Your father was telling me a few days ago," said Captain Acton, "of a narrow escape of yours, sir.",Hillsboro is a very peculiar little speck on the universe; even more peculiar than being like a hen. It is one of the oldest towns in the North, and the moss on it is so thick that it can't be scratched off except in spots. But when it does get stirred up to take an interest in anything, it certainly goes the pace. It hasn't had any real excitement for a long time, and I felt that it needed it. I rolled over and laughed into my pillow.,Several others were summoned and returned with remarkable reports. At last two high-pitched little voices called in concert down the[160] stair: “The Royal Seeress will rend the veil of futurity for William Bennett.”,"Wounded whistlers aren't as hard to retrieve as redhead or bluebill," said Stanhope.,"Brown night retires; young day pours in apace,,“It was very kind of you boys to bring me up here,” said Grandmother. “Oh, if I could only see the water! Is it smooth and bright?”,Mother planned everything for the party. There should be long tables in the park, where the feast should be spread for the children and most of the grown-up people; but the old and feeble ones whom Johnny invited should have their feast in the beautiful dining room that had angels painted on the ceiling. A band of music was to come from the city. There were to be flags and colored lanterns the entire length of the shady avenue, and when daylight faded and the park began to grow dusky, there would be fireworks—yes, fireworks as true as you live! Mother said so.,It took longer to get back to camp than he had supposed, for he was afraid to leave the river which served as his guide. Therefore it was nearly noon when a bend of the river showed him the dam.,"I don't think so, my boy. Isabella loved Maurice, and to marry him she would have rebelled against her mother. But I daresay if you become engaged to her, Etwald will remove you also from his path.","Well, you'd best come quick, then. You'll be gettin' enough hidin's today—if that new teacher's any good—without me havin' to wear my arm out on you 'fore breakfast.",Overcome by the heat of the fire, her luncheon, and the blessed certainty that for this one day at least no one is to be admitted to her presence, Lady Rodney has given herself up a willing victim to the child Somnus. Her book—that amiable assistant of all those that court siestas—has fallen to the ground. Her cap is somewhat awry. Her mouth is partly open, and a snore—gentle, indeed, but distinct and unmistakable—comes from her patrician throat.,CHAPTER XVII FAREWELL TO THE STUDIO.