A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. She leaned back in her chair. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. "Sir Rowland must be gone. “We always have things out with OUR father, poor dear!” said Hetty. You have never felt the hearts of all hardened against you; have never heard the jeer or curse from every lip; nor endured the insult and the blow from every hand.
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