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"See widin dat stick," she muttered, eagerly. "I wish to see.","Mrs. Dallas. She had missed her daughter and had been seeking for her in a state of terror, surely natural under the circumstances. I found her pacing the veranda, wondering what had become of Isabella.",Her eyes swept one wall and then the other, searching for the familiar canvas, but all in vain, until she lifted them to the screen which stood in the center of the room, and where three canvases were hung, Elinor's below the other two.,"But I assure you, David, the handkerchief is hers.","Well, yes. Miss Dallas," returned he, with much deliberation. "I am' satisfied, for the time being.","Come here to me a minute!" he said quickly, and he turned me round and put his head down between my shoulders and held me so tight against his ear that I could hardly breathe.,"Well, Etwald," cried the major, when he saw the tall form of the doctor at the door, "have you seen him?","Oh, you can't say that, Uncle Jen," remonstrated David.,It was Elinor's turn to raise misty eyes to the Messenger of the Ideal, and, like Judith, she was silent, busy with this thought.,No, the town didn't mean anything but kindness by marrying me to Mr. Carter, and they didn't consider him in the matter at all, poor man! Of that I feel sure. Hillsboro is like that. It settled itself here in this north country a few hundreds of years ago, and has been hatching and clucking over its own small affairs ever since. All the houses stand back from the street with their wings spread out over their gardens, and mothers here go on hovering even to the third and fourth generation. Lots of times young, long-legged boys scramble out of the nests and go off and decide to grow up where their crow will be heard by the world. Alfred was one of them.,Yes, the word "trousseau" ought to have a definite surname after it always, and that's why my loyalty dragged poor Mr. Carter out into the light of my conscience. The thinking of him had a strange effect on me. I had laid out the dream in dark grey-blue cloth, tailored almost beyond endurance, to wear in the train going home, and had thrown the old black silk bag across the chair to give to the hotel maid, but the decision of the session between conscience and loyalty made me pack the precious blue wonder and put on once more the black rags of remembrance in a kind of panic of respect.,"It can not be true," she murmured. "It is impossible.".