At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 100: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AT A GIRL’S MERCY. 89 make the old Hall the same rackety place it used to be. Ihave perfect faith in my belief, papa dearest. So you are to cheer up and let no ugly care sit like the black dog on your sponAhen your dear big, broad shoulders.”’ She jumped up, and going behind him, placed her two white arms about his neck, leaning over to peer inquisitively into his grave face, her own quite merry and happy, though her heart was aching— ah, who could ever know how her heart was aching for him and her own self. She longed so at that mo- ment for some one to comfort her as she was trying to comfort her father—some one, she did not say whom, but she knew—she and her heart knew full well. “It’s so good to have you, anyway, papa,’’ she said, her face suddenly turned into shadow that the tears in her eyes should not be seen, “‘It’s so good to have you, and I am, oh, so sure we will have mother and the boys with us again soon; the war must be nearly over.’’ But in her heart she knew the war was not nearly over, and that the hardest of the struggle was still to come. ‘“‘And still there’s no trace of the thieves,’’ Nan said presently, to give a different current to their thought, for she herself could not much longer have borne up under this strain upon her heart. She came around once more and sat down at the squire’s feet, resting her arms upon his knees, as was her favorite attitude during these sadly sweet moments of theirs. ‘‘It seems almost useless to ask after them, there being so little HORS of ever capturing them.’’ “Very little hope of ever petting within their reach,” her father said, gravely. ‘They took good (e(oyn nial exeve) cS (E(@) mn