The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. His hands came up, his face broke apart. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. I am a pauper, and as yet I have not discovered how to earn money. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply.
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