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Septimius Felton, or, the Elixir of Life by Nathaniel Hawthorne
page 127 of 198 (64%)
awake as well as usual. It would displease her much were you to miss your
afternoon school; so you had better set the table with whatever there is
left of yesterday's dinner, and leave me to take care of auntie."

"Well," said Rose, "she loves you best; but if she be really ill, I shall
give up my school and nurse her."

"No doubt," said Septimius, "she will be about the house again to-morrow."

So Rose ate her frugal dinner (consisting chiefly of purslain, and some
other garden herbs, which her thrifty aunt had prepared for boiling), and
went away as usual to her school; for Aunt Keziah, as aforesaid, had never
encouraged the tender ministrations of Rose, whose orderly, womanly
character, with its well-defined orb of daily and civilized duties, had
always appeared to strike her as tame; and she once said to her, "You are
no squaw, child, and you'll never make a witch." Nor would she even so
much as let Rose put her tea to steep, or do anything whatever for herself
personally; though, certainly, she was not backward in requiring of her a
due share of labor for the general housekeeping.

Septimius was sitting in his room, as the afternoon wore away; because, for
some reason or other, or, quite as likely, for no reason at all, he did
not air himself and his thoughts, as usual, on the hill; so he was sitting
musing, thinking, looking into his mysterious manuscript, when he heard
Aunt Keziah moving in the chamber above. First she seemed to rattle a
chair; then she began a slow, regular beat with the stick which Septimius
had left by her bedside, and which startled him strangely,--so that,
indeed, his heart beat faster than the five-and-seventy throbs to which he
was restricted by the wise rules that he had digested. So he ran hastily
up stairs, and behold, Aunt Keziah was sitting up in bed, looking very
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