She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick. “Well, you know. "Help!—help, Mr. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. ’ ‘Nothing would make me do so, except to tell him how you have cheated me.
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