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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"The Cricket on the Hearth"

'I don't know what effect it may have upon her; I don't know
what she'll think of me; I don't know that she'll ever care for her
poor father afterwards. But it's best for her that she should be
undeceived, and I must bear the consequences as I deserve!'
' Mary,' said Bertha, 'where is your hand! Ah! Here it is here it
is!' pressing it to her lips, with a smile, and drawing it through
her arm. 'I heard them speaking softly among themselves, last
night, of some blame against you. They were wrong.'
The Carrier's Wife was silent. Caleb answered for her.
'They were wrong,' he said.
'I knew it!' cried Bertha, proudly. 'I told them so. I scorned to
hear a word! Blame HER with justice!' she pressed the hand between
her own, and the soft cheek against her face. 'No! I am not so
blind as that.'
Her father went on one side of her, while Dot remained upon the
other: holding her hand.
'I know you all,' said Bertha, 'better than you think. But none so
well as her. Not even you, father. There is nothing half so real
and so true about me, as she is.


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