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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Perilous Secret"

"
"Well, then, tell this young fellow so. I will give you an opportunity."
That was easily managed, and then Mary said, timidly, "Cousin Walter, we
should all three be so glad if we might have the farm."
"Three?" said he. "Who is the third?"
"Oh, somebody that everybody likes and I love. It is Mr. Hope. Such a
duck! I am sure you would like him."
"Hope! Is his name William?"
"Yes, it is. Do you know him?" asked Mary, eagerly.
"I have reason to know him: he did me a good turn once, and I shall never
forget it."
"Just like him!" cried Mary. "He is always doing people good turns. He
is the best, the truest, the cleverest, the dearest darling dear that
ever stepped, and a second father to me; and, cousin, this village is his
birth-place, and he didn't say much, but it was he who told us of this
farm, and he would be so pleased if I could write and say, 'We are to
have the farm--Cousin Walter says so.'"
She turned her lovely eyes, brimming with tenderness, toward her cousin
Walter, and he was done for.


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