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Cholmondeley, Mary, 1859-1925

"Red Pottage"


"Sure. Fraeulein is with, him. He got the turn at dawn."
"Thank God!"
"Well, I should say thank your sister, too. She saved him. I tell you,
Gresley, neither you nor I could have sat all those hours without
stirring, as she did. She had cramp after the first hour. She has a will
of iron in that weak body of hers."
"I had no idea she was uncomfortable," said Mr. Gresley, half
incredulous.
"That is one of the reasons why I always say you ought not to be a
clergyman," snapped the little doctor, and was gone.
Mr. Gresley was not offended. He was too overwhelmed with thankfulness
to be piqued.
"Good old Brown," he said, indulgently. "He has been up all night, and
he is so tired he does not know he is talking nonsense. As if a man who
did not understand cramp was not qualified to be a priest. Ha! ha! He
always likes to have a little hit at me, and he is welcome to it. I must
just creep up and kiss dear Hester. I never should have thought she had
it in her to care for any one as she has shown she cares for Regie. I
shall tell her so, and how surprised I am, and how I love her for it.
She has always seemed so insensible, so callous. But, please God! this
is the beginning of a new life for her. If it is, she shall never hear
one word of reproach about the past from me.


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