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"Say so, if you do: it will be honester. If you don't," threateningly, "I shall of course think the contrary.","Loving you as I do," he exclaimed softly, "loving me as I know you do, my dearest girl, my sweet mistress, the sole star of my desire, how must it grieve me to see you weeping, how much more that I am to think those tears flow through me? But I have faith in time, in[Pg 260] the unconquerable quality of my love, and in the assurance of my soul, for though I have descended to artifice to enable me to win you, pure gem of your sex as you are, you do not despise me for my struggle. You recognise and approve an effort which has cost me many little pangs; for, dearest madam, my sweetest Lucy, 'tis all for love, and the world would be lost for me if you denied me, if I did not win you.","Well, just wait till I tuck up the tail of my gown," says Mrs. Geoffrey, airily flinging her pale-blue skirt over her white bare arm.,“You did me a good turn to-day,” he said a little huskily. “Thanks. I—I can’t say things very well but I want to tell you—”,"Yes, but am I to go in these dirty old clothes?" Her godmother touched her lightly with her wand, and in the same instant her dress was changed into one of gold and silver, covered with precious stones. She then gave her a pair of glass slippers, the prettiest in the world. When she was thus attired, she got into the coach; but her godmother told her, above all things, not to stay past midnight—warning her, that if she remained at the ball a minute longer, her coach would again become a pumpkin, her horses, mice, her footmen, lizards, and her clothes turn again into her old ones. She promised her godmother that she would not fail to leave the ball before midnight, and drove off, almost out of her mind with joy.,The man knew his was a losing fight yet he wanted to struggle on. Through the years he had watched over his motherless boy, he had dreamed dreams. He had seen the time when Bob would enter his office, when he would become a partner and at last when he would take onto his young shoulders the whole burden of the work. It had been a good dream and he was loath to give it up. He made one more effort.,"I pity your wife," says Mona, almost severely.,"Well, Jacobs—or whatever your name happens to be now—what are you doing here?" he asked.,Betty, not interested in intricate relationships, tiptoed into the parlor and uncovering the organ, played with one finger “Home Sweet Home.” The wool-embroidered motto on the wall almost wept.,“Thank you kindly, sir. It won’t be lonesome now that I have that to look at,” and his crooked finger pointed up to the little brown paper frame hanging by its red cord.,The boy gave her a squeeze that made her last words come in jerks. “That’s a mean trick to play on a fellow,—chuck such a responsibility on a twelve-year-old. Say I must or I mustn’t, mamma.” He caught her hand and gently tweaked her fingers.,War had swept the narrow seas, and for hours in the day little more hove into view whether from the cliffs of our country or from those of the enemy opposite, than sometimes a large convoy glimmering cloud-like as it[Pg 234] floated, some compact, some scattered, under the protection of men-of-war up Channel to London town or to other ports, or down Channel to their several destinations in various parts of the globe..