For two years he thought himself secure; and, secretly engaged in the Jacobite schemes of the time, in which, also, Sir Cecil was deeply involved, he began to relax in his watchfulness over Aliva. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. He really deserves a better fate, does he not? He is so beautifully persistent. But the world didn’t do that. She had killed him. It isn’t. ‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand. And it has been well for you that he imagines the child was drowned. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. When she had finished the first tale, there was a sense of disappointment. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. Wait a little; rest. She turned there, clasped her hands behind her back and put up her chin.
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