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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Thomas Wingfold, Curate V1"

So, if you will see me hanged,----"
He sat down and folded his arms.
"Hush! Poldie, hush!" cried Helen, in an agonized whisper. "I am
only thinking what I can best do. I cannot hide you here, for if my
aunt knew, she would betray you by her terrors; and if she did not
know, and those men came, she would help them to search every corner
of the house. Otherwise there might be a chance."
Again she was silent for a few moments; then, seeming suddenly to
have made up her mind, went softly to the door.
"Don't leave me!" cried Leopold.
"Hush! I must. I know now what to do. Be quiet here until I come
back."
Slowly, cautiously, she unlocked it, and left the room. In three or
four minutes she returned, carrying a loaf of bread and a bottle of
wine. To her dismay Leopold had vanished. Presently he came creeping
out from under the bed, looking so abject that Helen could not help
a pang of shame. But the next moment the love of the sister, the
tender compassion of the woman, returned in full tide, and swallowed
up the unsightly thing. The more abject he was, the more was he to
be pitied and ministered to.
"Here, Poldie," she said, "you carry the bread, and I will take the
wine.


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