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In the midst of her satisfaction she continued to sidle, and at last the cause was disclosed.
When Sara went into her sitting room in the morning, she found on the table a small, dumpy package, tied up in a piece of brown paper.
While Ferrier was absent, preparing his daughter for the approaching journey, Jefferson Hope packed all the eatables that he could find into a small parcel, and filled a stoneware jar with water, for he knew by experience that the mountain wells were few and far between.
Some of the boys had then asked the priest if Victor Hugo were not the greatest French writer.
