The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. An ancient smile lay on his lips. Gerald, I mean, not Madame Valade. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. "It is useless," replied Mrs.
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