This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 edition. Excerpt: ...were passing and repassing innumerable nattering comments on the young wife of the Master of Saint Bede's. Only she thought once or twice, with an amused wonder, which had yet some sadness in it, how little these people would have thought of her a year before; how completely they would ignore her now if she ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 edition. Excerpt: ...were passing and repassing innumerable nattering comments on the young wife of the Master of Saint Bede's. Only she thought once or twice, with an amused wonder, which had yet some sadness in it, how little these people would have thought of her a year before; how completely they would ignore her now if she were not Dr. Grey's wife. And there came into her heart such a gush of--gratitude was it?--to that good man who had loved her just as she was, --poor Christian Oakley, --governess and orphan; in that saddest state of orphanage which is conscious that all the world would say she had need to be thankful for the same. She looked round for her husband several times, but missing him--and it felt a want, among all those strange faces--she sat down by Miss Gascoigne; who, taking the turn of the tide, now patronised "my sister, Mrs. Grey," in the most overwhelming manner. It was after a whispered conference with Miss Gascoigne, that the wife of the Vice-Chancellor, herself young and handsome, and lately married, came up to ask Christian to sing. Then, poor girl! all her fears and doubts returned. To sing to a whole roomful of people, --she had never done it in her life. It would be as bad as that night-mare fancy which used to haunt her, of being dragged forward to find the ten thousand eyes of a crowded theatre all focussed upon her, a sensation almost as horrible as being under a burning-glass. N "Oh no! not to-night. I would much rather not. Indeed, I cannot sing." "May I beg to be allowed to deny that fact?" said the gentleman, --a young gentleman, upon whose arm the hostess had crossed the room, --of whom she, a stranger in Avonsbridge, knew only that he was a baronet and had fifteen thousand a-year. "Well, Sir Edwin, try if you can persuade her. Mrs....
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