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Then there is silence for a full minute, during which Miss Mansergh casts a reproachful glance at the irrepressible Jack.,However, the stove-pipe was at last cleaned and ready to put up. Moses’ moroseness had by now developed into a complaint, the chief symptoms of which were sniffling and coughing.,But that Mr. Rodney is still oppressed with the fear that he has mortally offended her, he could have laughed out loud at this childish speech; but anxiety helps him to restrain his mirth. Nevertheless he feels an unholy joy as he thinks on Mr. Moore's bald pate, his "too, too solid flesh," and his "many days.","She is certainly beautiful," said he, indifferently, "but she is not clever, and her weak nature is enslaved by the gross superstitions of Dido.","Eh? What's that?" Mr. Johnston fairly recoiled in surprise and indignation at the affront to his dignity. "Silence! boys and girls," he shouted, as a titter ran through the schoolroom.,Therefore, when a ship was newly come home even to a little maritime scene such as Old Harbour, there was plenty to hold groups in animated converse on the quay-side.,"But he had no right to call us savages, Ma," protested Billy.,Maurice grew serious, and paused at the top of the drive, just out of sight of the house, to reply to this question.,"You will come first and see Philippa?" she says, in a slow peculiar tone that sounds as if it had been dug up and is quite an antique in its own way. It savors of dust and feudal days. Every one says he or she will be delighted, and all try to look as if the entire hope of their existence is centred in the thought that they shall soon lay longing eyes on Philippa,—whose name in reality is Anne, but who has been rechristened by her enterprising sister. Anne is all very well for everyday life, or for Bluebeard's sister-in-law; but Philippa is art of the very highest description. So Philippa she is, poor soul, whether she likes it or not.,Then, suddenly as it had come, the storm passed, trailing dark, yellow-gray, ragged clouds in its wake. The light came back and the awed girls at the little window saw below them in the emerald meadows, wide ugly yellow splotches that grew as they looked, meeting other growing patches of swirling yellow water from the lanes and roads. Trees showed fresh wounds and masses of broken branches clotted the discolored waters of the brook. Birds called excitedly and flew exultantly about in the limpid air. The sun flung gay greens and golds. The storm was past.,"More ham? Certainly." Mrs. Keeler came forward with a platter, newly fried, and scraped two generous slices onto Mr. Johnston's plate. "Now, sir, don't you be affeard to holler out when you want more," said the hospitable housewife.,“If they did that,” exploded the rancher, “there’d be nothing to it. We would be obliged to go in. I could come mighty nigh wishing somebody a hurt if ’twould bring it about.”.