"It is", seplied Winifred; "have you brought any tidings of Thames Darrell!" "Troth have I!" replied Terence: "but, bless your angilic face, how did you contrive to guess that?" "Is he well?—is he safe?—is he coming back," cried the little girl, disregarding the question. He taught her how to read and write in Latin and Greek, often rewarding her for her efforts with a flower or a trinket. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. “Are you with us?” said the tired woman.
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