Margaret Had Always Dreaded Lest Her Courage

I Value My Own Independence So Highly That I Can Fancy No Degradation Greater Than That Of Having Another Man Perpetually Directing And Advising And Lecturing Me, Or Even Planning Too Closely In Any Way About My Actions. He Might Be The Wisest Of Men, Or The Most Powerful - I Should Equally Rebel And Resent His Interference.

When Oranges Came In, A Curious Proceeding Was Gone Through. Miss Jenkyns Did Not Like To Cut The Fruit, For, As She Observed, The Juice All Ran Out Nobody Knew Where, Sucking [only I Think She Used Some More Recondite Word] Was In Fact The Only Way Of Enjoying Oranges; But Then There Was The Unpleasant Association With A Ceremony Frequently Gone Through By Little Babies; And So, After Dessert, In Orange Season, Miss Jenkyns And Miss Matty Used To Rise Up, Possess Themselves Each Of An Orange In Silence, And Withdraw To The Privacy Of Their Own Rooms To Indulge In Sucking Oranges.

When Prayers Were Ended, And His Mother Had Wished Him Good-night With That Long Steady Look Of Hers Which Conveyed No Expression Of The Tenderness That Was In Her Heart, But Yet Had All The Intensity Of A Blessing.

But With The Increase Of Serious And Just Ground Of Complaint, A New Kind Of Patience Had Sprung Up In Her Mother's Mind. She Was Gentle And Quiet In Intense Bodily Suffering, Almost In Proportion As She Had Been Restless And Depressed When There Had Been No Real Cause For Grief.

Again, Stepping Nearer, He Besought Her With Another Tremulous Eager Call Upon Her Name. 'margaret!' Still Lower Went The Head; More Closely Hidden Was The Face, Almost Resting On The Table Before Her. He Came Close To Her. He Knelt By Her Side, To Bring His Face To A Level With Her Ear; And Whispered-panted Out The Words: — 'take Care. — If You Do Not Speak — I Shall Claim You As My Own In Some Strange Presumptuous Way.