Of course, misfortunes may come; but it is cowardly to be afraid of them beforehand.

You and I are bound together, uncle; and though you say these things to tease me, I know you do not wish to get rid of me." "Well, well; we shall win through, doubtless; if not in one way, then in another." "Win through! Of course we shall; who doubts our winning?
but, uncle--" "But, Mary." "Well ?" "You haven't got another cup of tea, have you ?" "Oh, uncle! you have had five." "No, my dear! not five; only four--only four, I assure you; I have been very particular to count.

I had one while I was--" "Five uncle; indeed and indeed." "Well, then, as I hate the prejudice which attaches luck to an odd number, I'll have a sixth to show that I am not superstitious." While Mary was preparing the sixth jorum, there came a knock at the door.

Those late summonses were hateful to Mary's ear, for they were usually the forerunners of a midnight ride through the dark lanes to some farmer's house.

The doctor had been in the saddle all day, and, as Janet brought the note into the room, Mary stood up as though to defend her uncle from any further invasion on his rest.
"A note from the house, miss," said Janet: now "the house," in Greshamsbury parlance, always meant the squire's mansion.
"No one ill at the house, I hope," said the doctor, taking the note from Mary's hand.