Capitolo 83
Hardwick is an impostor. I know him/it, and it told this way him the duration but you
he/she would not believe me. I never expect me to put again eyes on Ida in this
world."
Next day passed, and he/she anchors any news of the custody of Jack. His/her youth
you protect, although I don't darken as Aunt Rachel, unusually looked serious.
There was usually also a cloud of the anxiety on the placid face of the cooper,
and he was more silent than been accustomed to the meal in the evening. At night, later
Jack and his/her aunt had retired, he said, anxiously: "Thing you think it is
the cause of the absence done prolong of Ida Martha?"
"I cannot say", says his/her wife, seriously. "It seems to me, if his mother
wanted to hold her/it longer it would be anybody more than the right that she owes
I/you/he/she allow us to fall a line. You have to know that we would feel there anxious."
"You is picked above so perhaps up with Ida that she can think about any other."
"You/he/she can be this way; but if us neither we see him of Ida to-tomorrow, neither he/she speaks to her me,
you/he/she will have shaken seriously."
"Supposes that she should never return, it suggested the cooper, a lot
soberly.
"Oh, husband, doesn't suggest to such thing", says his/her wife.
"We have to contemplate him/it as a possibility", said Timothy, seriously,
"although not, as I hope, as a probability. The mother of Ida has a sure
straight to her."
"Then it would be best if she had never been put in our position,"
Said Martha, cryingly "for us we would not have had to have the pain to divide
with her."
"Not so, Martha", it said his/her husband, seriously. "We should be thankful
for the benedictions of God, even if He suffers of us to hold back them but a short
time. And Ida has been a benediction to all of us, I am sure. The memory of
that cannot be taken by us Martha. There are some lines which I have entered through
the to-night of paper that what I have been sayin.' Allow me to find
them."
The cooper I handed his/her shows, and it chased down slowly the columns of
the daily paper up to him came to these beautiful lines of Tennyson that