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Hardy, Thomas, 1840-1928

"The Trumpet-Major"

Loveday was crossing the room to join her
daughter, whose manner had given her some uneasiness, when a noise
came from above the ceiling, as of some heavy body falling. Mrs.
Loveday rushed to the staircase, saying, 'Ah, I feared something!'
and she was followed by John.
When they entered Anne's room, which they both did almost at one
moment, they found her lying insensible upon the floor. The
trumpet-major, his lips tightly closed, lifted her in his arms, and
laid her upon the bed; after which he went back to the door to give
room to her mother, who was bending over the girl with some
hartshorn.
Presently Mrs. Loveday looked up and said to him, 'She is only in a
faint, John, and her colour is coming back. Now leave her to me; I
will be downstairs in a few minutes, and tell you how she is.'
John left the room. When he gained the lower apartment his father
was standing by the chimney-piece, the sailor having gone. The
trumpet-major went up to the fire, and, grasping the edge of the
high chimney-shelf, stood silent.
'Did I hear a noise when I went out?' asked the elder, in a tone of
misgiving.
'Yes, you did,' said John. 'It was she, but her mother says she is
better now. Father,' he added impetuously, 'Bob is a worthless
blockhead! If there had been any good in him he would have been
drowned years ago!'
'John, John--not too fast,' said the miller. 'That's a hard thing
to say of your brother, and you ought to be ashamed of it.


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