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Poynter, Eleanor Frances

"My Little Lady"

Linders was going to die; it would
be so very troublesome and inconvenient, that she found it
pleasanter to persuade herself that he would surely recover;
and now, on the strength of his conviction, and with a kind
wish to console Madelon, she became so encouraging, so certain
he would be well again in a few weeks--in a few weeks did she
say?--in a few days--with this clever English doctor, who, as
she improvised for the occasion, everyone knew was one of the
first doctors in London--with all this Madame so encouraged and
cheered our Madelon, that she came upstairs again at the end
of an hour looking quite bright, and almost expecting to see
some wonderful change for the better in her father. M.
Linders, however still lay as she had left him, and perhaps
the sight of his pale bloodless face chilled her, for she
crept silently to her corner, and took up her book again,
without saying a word of her new hopes. Presently Graham,
looking up from his writing, found that she had done the best
thing possible under the circumstances, for, with her book
lying open upon her lap, and her head resting against the
window-frame, she had fallen fast asleep.


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