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He walked back to the hotel, too overcome by the beauty of the thing he had seen to attempt talking of it. Evidently Steve Whitney knew how the boy felt, for he did not break the silence. But once inside the house Bob realized that it had been a long time since luncheon.,

Once upon a time there was a nobleman, who took for a second wife the haughtiest and proudest woman that had ever been seen. She had two daughters of the same temper, and who resembled her in everything. The husband, on his side, had a daughter, of unexampled gentleness and goodness. She inherited these qualities from her mother, who had been the best creature in the world.,

“The wood-cutter is right. It is balm,” said Uncle Isaac finally.,

“Here are the apples, Aunt Grenertsen. Aren’t they beauties?”

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“I can well believe it,” said Aunt Grenertsen. “People never stay at home in these days. They are forever flying about.”,

The wedding was hardly over before the stepmother's ill-humour broke out. She could not endure the young girl, whose good qualities made her own daughters appear still more detestable. She put her to do all the most menial work in the house. It was she who washed up the plates and dishes, and cleaned the stairs; who scrubbed the stepmother's room, and those of her daughters. She slept in a garret at the top of the house, on a wretched straw mattress, while her sisters occupied rooms with inlaid floors, and had the latest fashioned beds, and mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot. The poor girl bore everything with patience, and did not dare complain to her father, who would only have scolded her, as he was entirely governed by his wife. When she had done her work, she was in the habit of going into the chimney-corner and sitting down amongst the cinders, which caused her to be nicknamed Cindertail by the household in general. The second daughter, however, who was not quite so rude as her sister, called her Cinderella. Nevertheless, Cinderella in her shabby clothes, still looked a thousand times more beautiful than her sisters, although so magnificently dressed.,

Another wonderfully interesting thing was that “Goodwill of Luckton” had arrived. He had seen it at Forsberg’s wharf when he was going to school. At this thought Johnny Blossom broke into a run. Darting through the little gate to their own back yard, he burst into the entry and, in the same headlong fashion, into the dining room. The family was already at the table.,

Ferdinand listened to this narrative in silent horror. He remembered the temerity with which he had dared to penetrate those apartments—the light, and figure he had seen—and, above all, his situation in the stair-case of the tower. Every nerve thrilled at the recollection; and the terrors of remembrance almost equalled those of reality.