Mamma used to cry at these
ditties. "That child's voice brings tears into my eyes, Mr. Newcome," she
would say. "She has never known a moment's sorrow yet! Heaven grant,
heaven grant, she may be happy! But what shall I be when I lose her?"
"Why, my dear, when ye lose Rosey, ye'll console yourself with Josey,"
says droll Mr. Binnie from the sofa, who perhaps saw the manoeuvre of the
widow.
The widow laughs heartily and really. She places a handkerchief over her
mouth. She glances at her brother with a pair of eyes full of knowing
mischief. "Ah, dear James," she says, "you don't know what it is to have
a mother's feelings."
"I can partly understand them," says James. "Rosey, sing me that pretty
little French song." Mrs. Mackenzie's attention to Clive was really quite
affecting. If any of his friends came to the house, she took them aside
and praised Clive to them. The Colonel she adored. She had never met with
such a man or seen such a manner. The manners of the Bishop of Tobago
were beautiful, and he certainly had one of the softest and finest hands
in the world; but not finer than Colonel Newcome's.
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