She must leave London, if she don't alter.

It's flightiness; that's all.

You mustn't think ill of poor Dahly.

She was always the pretty one, and when they know it, they act up to it: she was her mother's favourite." "Ah! poor Susan! an upright woman before the Lord." "She was," said the farmer, bowing his head.
"And a good wife," Anthony interjected.
"None better--never a better; and I wish she was living to look after her girls." "I came through the churchyard, hard by," said Anthony; "and I read that writing on her tombstone.

It went like a choke in my throat.