"When Mr.March is asleep she'll come and sit for half an hour, talking to Tod and me; and playing with the baby--" Here, probably at sound of its name, the individual alluded to set up, from its cradle in the corner, such a terrific squall, that we young men beat a precipitate retreat.
"So, John, your grey gown is discovered at last.

She's young, certainly--but not exactly a beauty." "I never said she was." "A pleasant person, though; hearty, cheerful-looking, and strong.

I can easily imagine her trotting over the common with her basket of eggs--chatting to the old woman, and scolding the naughty boy." "Don't make fun of her.

She must have a hard life with her old father." Of course, seeing him take it up so seriously, I jested no more.
"By-the-by, did not the father's name strike you?
MARCH--suppose it should turn out to be the very Mr.March you pulled out of Severn five years ago.

What a romantic conjuncture of circumstances ?" "Nonsense," said John, quickly--more quickly than he usually spoke to me; then came back to wish me a kind goodbye.