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The Hoyden by Mrs. (Margaret Wolfe Hamilton) Hungerford
page 31 of 563 (05%)
lived in hourly fear of his wife, and had never dared to contradict
her on any subject, though he was a man of many inches, and she one
of the smallest creatures on record.

"True! true! _You_ knew him so well!" says Lady Rylton, hiding her
eyes behind the web of a handkerchief she is holding. One tear would
have reduced it to pulp. "And when he was----" She pauses.

"Was dead?" says Margaret kindly, softly.

"Oh, _don't,_ dear Margaret, _don't!"_ says Lady Rylton, with a
tragical start. "That dreadful word! One should never mention death!
It is so rude! He, your poor uncle--he _left_ us with the sweetest
resignation on the 18th of February, 1887."

"I never _saw_ such resignation," says Mrs. Bethune, with deep
emphasis.

She casts a glance at Margaret, who, however, refuses to have
anything to do with it. But, for all that, Mrs. Bethune is clearly
enjoying herself. She can never, indeed, refrain from sarcasm, even
when her audience is unsympathetic.

"Yes, yes; he was resigned," says Lady Rylton, pressing her
handkerchief to her nose.

"So much so, that one might almost think he was _glad_ to go," says
Mrs. Bethune, nodding her head with beautiful sympathy.

She is now shaking with suppressed laughter.
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