Clumber chase; or, Love's riddle solved by a royal sphinxA tale of the restoration . hsuch a good imitation of thunder, that it mighthave demolished walls less than five feet thick,as those at The Chestnuts were. Mrs. Nevillehastened to ring the bell to have him shown out,for fear he should return, and as soon as he gal-loped past the window, she opened the blotting-book on Dorothys work table. As she hadanticipated, the sheet of paper containing thewritten promise was gone, but in the great hurrynecessitated by his somewhat peculiar mode ofpossessing himself of it. Sir Allen had quiteoverlook
Clumber chase; or, Love's riddle solved by a royal sphinxA tale of the restoration . hsuch a good imitation of thunder, that it mighthave demolished walls less than five feet thick,as those at The Chestnuts were. Mrs. Nevillehastened to ring the bell to have him shown out,for fear he should return, and as soon as he gal-loped past the window, she opened the blotting-book on Dorothys work table. As she hadanticipated, the sheet of paper containing thewritten promise was gone, but in the great hurrynecessitated by his somewhat peculiar mode ofpossessing himself of it. Sir Allen had quiteoverlooked the next sheet, which contained thesignature of Ambrose Jessop, in black inde-lible ink, and a deep stamp of the impression ofSir Allens seal on the paper. 1670. Clumber Chase. 167 This sheet Mrs. Neville now transferred to herpocket-book with the two others, placing it withinthem, so that through the transparent paperJessops signature as witness appeared just inthe right place. This arrangement completedshe, with a heavy heart, hastened up to Dorothy. 168 Clumber Chase. CHAPTER YTII. UP STAIRS, DOWN STAIRS, AND IN MY LADYsCHAMBER. T is certain that, whether for evil or forgood, things rarely, if ever, fall outexactly as we expect them; so thatwhen we expatiate (as is the wont ofhumanity) upon our disappointed hopes, weshould in common justice strike the balance byremembering that even those things which wemost fear, are seldom as hard in the event as theyhave been in our anticipation, for expectation isa sort of moral haze, through which all thingsloom larger from their very indistinctness, thanthey actually are. Twice had Mrs. Neville got asfar as Dorothys door, and twice had she turnedback and walked up the corridor, her heartbeating so violently, her breath being so inter-cepted, and her mind still so undecided as to thebest way of letting her poor child know the pur-port of Sir Allen Brodericks visit. Undecidedat least save on one point, and upon that, shewas tho
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