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Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge), 1825-1900

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"

"
Dolly blushed at the rich tone in which he pronounced her name, almost
as if it were an adjective; but she allowed him to take her hand,
and lead her to the bench beneath the rock. Then, regardless of his
breeches, although of fine padusoy, and his coat, though of purple
velvet, he sate down on the bank of the rill at her feet, and waited for
her to say something. The young lady loved mainly to take the lead, but
would liefer have followed suit just now.
"You have promised to tell me," she said, very softly, and with an
unusual timidity, which added to her face and manner almost the only
charm they lacked, "some things which I do not understand, and which I
have no right to ask you of, except for your own offer. Why should you,
without injuring any one, but only having suffered loss of all your
family property, and of all your rights and comforts, and living in
that lonely place which used to be full of company--why should you be
in danger now, when you have nothing more to be robbed of? I beg your
pardon--I mean when all your enemies must have done their worst."
"You are too young yet to understand the world," he answered, with a
well-drawn sigh; "and I hope most truly that you may never do so. In
your gentle presence I cannot speak with bitterness, even if I could
feel it. I will not speak harshly of any one, however I may have been
treated. But you will understand that my life alone remains betwixt the
plunderers and their prey, and that my errand here prevents them from
legally swallowing up the spoil.


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