Mr.Woodseer and Mr.Edwards and Madge are there.' 'Is the one more request--I mean, a mother's anxiety does not run to the extent of suspecting everybody ?' 'Some of the children are very pretty,' said Carinthia, and eyed the bands of them at their games in the roadway and at the cottage doors.
'Children of the poor have happy mothers.' Her eyes were homely, morning over her face.

They were open now to what that fellow Woodseer (who could speak to the point when he was not aiming at it) called the parlour, or social sitting-room; where we may have converse with the tame woman's mind, seeing the door to the clawing recesses temporarily shut.
'Forgive me if I say you talk like the bigger child,' Fleetwood said lightly, not ungenially; for the features he looked on were museful, a picture in their one expression.
Her answer chilled him.

'It is true, my lord.

I will not detain you.

I would beg to be supplied with money.' He was like the leaves of a frosted plant, in his crisp curling inward:--he had been so genial.
'You have come to say good-bye, that an opportunity to--as you put it--beg for money.