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Poynter, Eleanor Frances

"My Little Lady"


"Do you really think he will get well again?" she said; "he
looks so ill."
Graham did not at once answer. In truth, he saw no prospect of
M. Linders' ultimate recovery, though he would probably regain
consciousness, and might, perhaps, linger on for a few days.
But there always remained the hope born of a determination not
to despair, and it seemed cruel, at that moment, not to share
it with our poor little Madelon.
"We must hope so," he said at last, "we must always hope for
the best, you know; but he must be kept very quiet, so you and
I, Madelon, must do our best to watch him, and see that he is
not disturbed."
"Yes," said Madelon, drying her eyes quite now. "I will take
care of him."
"Very well, then, if you will sit with him now, I will go and
speak to Madame Lavaux, if she is up; there are several
arrangements I have to make."
He went away, leaving Madelon contented for the moment, since
she could sit and watch by her father; she remained
motionless, her eyes fixed on his face, her hands clasped
round her knees, her whole mind so absorbed in keeping
perfectly quiet, the one thing she could do for him just then,
that she hardly ventured to breathe.


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