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

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"

Few things
perhaps will endure more wear than feminine curiosity. But when a trap
has been set too long, it gets tongue-bound, and grows content without
contents.
"Daniel Tugwell," said Miss Darling, severely, "if you have not been
fighting, or conspiring against society, or even poaching, I can well
understand that you may have reasons for not desiring my assistance or
advice. And I only wonder that under such circumstances you took the
trouble to wait for me here, as you appear to have done. Good-bye."
"Oh, don't be cross, miss! please not to be cross," cried Daniel,
running after her; "I would tell you all about it this very instant
moment, if it were behoving to me. You will hear all about it when you
get to Parson Twemlow's, for I saw mother going there, afore she had her
breakfast, though I was not concernable to let her see me. If the Squire
had been home, she would have gone up to Hall first. No, miss, no. I
done nothing to be ashamed of; and if you turn back on me, you'll be
sorry afterwards."
Faith was more apt to think that she had been too sharp than to be so in
behaviour to any one. She began at once, with a blush for her bad ideas,
to beg Dan's pardon, and he saw his way to say what he was come to say.
"You always were too good, Miss Faith, too good to be hard upon any one,
and I am sure you have not been hard upon me; for I know that I look
disrespectable. But I couldn't find words to say what I wanted, until
you spoke so soft and kind.


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