She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. Our land brings us in nothing. ” She shook her head. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. "You have all the world before you. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried. I shall like to think of it—whenever I feel dull.
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