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“Thank you, Aunt Grenertsen.”,Mr Lawrence reflected as though mentally gauging depth of hold and breadth of beam, and answered, "I think when flush she should hold six hundred tons.",Now from the fire again arose the smell of roasting meat. The children ate and played. Those who so long had been silent now talked and laughed.,Elinor laughed easily. "He seems to be very pleasant and he certainly is popular with the boys," she admitted, "but I must say I like Tommy Hughes immensely.",Thus the people got their first medicine pipe. It was long ago.,He does not see Mona until he is within a yard of her, a thick bush standing between him and her. Being always a creature of impulse, she has stood still on seeing him, and is lost in wonder as to who he can be. One hand is lifting up her gown, the other is holding together the large soft white fleecy shawl that covers her shoulders, and is therefore necessarily laid upon her breast. Her attitude is as picturesque as it is adorable.,"Why don't you wish to sell it, Uncle Jen?",The three people gave a simultaneous cry of amazement and delight, for there, on the threshold of the room, alive and well, stood--Maurice Alymer.,"Miss Dallas!" said Etwald, in no wise moved by this speech.,Major Jen took Dido by the shoulder, and giving her a good shake, commanded her to be silent. At once the negress--who was evidently acting a part--ceased her outcries, and after casting her eyes significantly at her mistress, stared sullenly at the floor. Mrs. Dallas turned pale at this rapid glance, and was obliged to take a seat to prevent herself from falling. Not a detail of this by-play was lost upon Jen, who saw in the conduct of mistress and servant a confirmation of his suspicions. However, he added nothing to his previous speech, but merely recapitulated--for the benefit of Mrs. Dallas--the points of his accusation against the negress. Dido heard him in silence, but this time she made neither outcry nor denial.,CHAPTER XVIII. THE DEVIL-STICK THIEF.,September passed laden with summer perfumes and song and, beneath a blanket of hoar frost, October awoke to send her hazy heralds far across wooded upland and open. Slowly those wreathing mists kissed leaf and fern, as though whispering: "Rest sweetly, until spring brings you back once again.".