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Black, William, 1841-1898

"Prince Fortunatus"

Moore said. "She has been
making so many different things for them. And I don't like to hear her
sewing-machine going so late at night."
"Then why do you let her do it?" Lionel said, in his impetuous way. "Why
don't you get in somebody to help her? Look here, I'll pay for that. You
call in a seamstress to do all that sewing, and I'll give her a
sovereign a week. Why should Francie have her eyes ruined?"
"Lionel is like the British government, Mrs. Moore," Mangan said, with a
smile. "He thinks he can get over every difficulty by pulling out his
purse. But perhaps Miss Francie might prefer carrying out her charitable
work herself."
So Maurice Mangan was arrogating to himself, was he, the right of
guessing Francie's preferences?
"Well, mother, tell me where I am likely to find her. I am going to pull
her out of those fever-dens and refuges for cripples. Why, she ought to
know that's all exploded now. Slumming, as a fad, had its day, but it's
quite gone out now--"
"Do you think it is because it is fashionable, or was fashionable, that
Miss Francie takes an interest in those poor children?" Maurice asked,
gently.
Lionel was nearly telling him to mind his own business; why should he
step in to defend Cousin Francie?
"She said she was going across the common to old Widow Jackson's," his
mother answered him, "and you may find her either there or on the way to
the village.


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