She did not want to feel such negative emotion towards any member of her foster family. He stood before her. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. Men usually do. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits.
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