When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. "There he is!" "I fear not," said her father, with a doubtful shake of the head. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. Only in the sunshine; they would not answer my whistle on cloudy days. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. He was caressing an idea. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm prevailed.
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