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The Young Seigneur Or, Nation-Making

Chapter 8 THE TOBOGGAN SLIDE.

Word Count: 1180    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

in this blossom

with every

VALANCEY

e but make prudent enquiries about Alexandra Grant. I rememb

beautiful,

man begging on a church step. I watched her turn and speak politely to a ragged newsgirl. One day, when Quinet and I, coming down from College and seeing a little bo

kenzie's, at a toboggan party give

boggan hill and my emotions in that sim

o a grande passion,-f

e little run and leaped on at the end of the cushion, with my foot out behind to steer. Immediately we shot down the first descent, and as I straightened the course of the quick-flying leaf of maple wood, I felt it correspond as if intelligently. The second descent spurred our rate to an e

ight. The toboggan shot on like a flash, and the drift beat fiercely in my eyes. But why should I heed? Away! Away! Leave everything behind us

gan undulated gracefully like a serpent over a little rising in the path and came to a stand. She rose. The light

us closely. "Permit me-

ning eagerly forward t

in

g, paid to her, and at the house afterwards I looked

ispered Annie Lockhar

her frank, innocent manner

o me with the fo

tron! My angel!" and as I looked upon h

and raise my eyes towards your pure

are so be

d of ours, Grace Carter, a girl of the light, subtly graceful Engl

n watching your dolorous expression ti

ed at her,

nlight contemplating the approach of the catastrophe. But what have you to do with catastrophes? Off

uld not help a laugh, though

e dull, I am afr

tion is my mission. Believe me, I thi

to which I listened with what attention I could. But my eyes persisted in resting oftener and oftener on Alexandra, and some bread baked by her and Annie,-a triumph of amateur housekeeping-being passed by the latter in piec

uke he withdraws a step or two. A kind voice accosts him; it is Alexandra. "Come here and speak to me, Mr. Quinet. You always talk what is worth while." "To talk of what is worth

d to force my imagination into snatches of remembrance of her face as colored and clear-outlined

o self-contemp

n feel the passion of

y to stand in her presence! There is only left for me to purify and burn and subdue my heart

efore me and a voice seemed

t things" should be my

had advanced

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