[Controlsocial-usuarios] {Spam?} Ty, and the Roman (though much inferior, Roman Catholics tell me, as a co

[Flaharty]

ALOUSY. CHAPTER XXVIII. The bill was paid; the black horse saddled and
brought round to the door. Mr. and Mrs. Vint stood bare-headed to honor
the parting guest; and the latter offered him the stirrup-cup. Griffith
looked round for Mercy. She was nowhere to be seen. Then he said,
piteously, to Mrs. Vint, "What, not even bid me good by?" Mrs. Vint
replied, in a very low voice, that there was no disrespect intended.
"The truth is, sir, she could not trust herself to see you go; but she
bade me give you a message. Says she, 'Mother, tell him I pray God to
bless him, go where he will.'" Something rose in Griffith's throat "O
Dame!" said he, "if she only knew the truth, she would think better of
me than she does. God bless her!" And he rode sorrowfully away, alone in
the world once more. At the first turn in the road, he wheeled his
horse, and took a last lingering look. There was nothing vulgar, nor
inn-like, in the "Packhorse." It stood fifty yards from the road, on a
little rural green, and was picturesque itself. The front was entirely
clad with large-leaved ivy. Shutters there were none: the windows, with
their diamond panes, were lustrous squares, set like great eyes in the
green ivy. It looked a pretty, peaceful retreat, and in it Griffith had
found peace and a dove-like friend. He sighed, and rode away from the
sight; not raging and convulsed, as when he rode from Hernshaw Castle,
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