Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. ’ Then she whisked from the room, hearing Lucilla utter a delighted squeal as she closed the door behind her. But, in the midst of all her affliction, she has found a steady friend in Mr. She evolved a dim image of herself cooped up in a house under the benevolent shadow of Mr. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. It loves to sit on your knee. “Why not?” He asked. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs.
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