Summary

Catherine Sinclair Holiday House: A Series of Tales

Crabtree herself, who started back with an exclamation of joyful amazement, and looked as if she could scarcely believe her eyes on beholding them, while they laughed at the joke till tears were running down their cheeks. “Is Mrs. Crabtree at home?” said Harry, trying to look very grave.
“Grandmama says we may stay here for an hour, while she drives along the shore,” added Laura, stepping into the house with a very merry face. “And how do you do, Mrs. Crabtree?”
“Very well, Miss Laura, and very happy to see you. What a tall girl you are become! and Master Harry too!
Source: Gutenberg

Catherine Sinclair Holiday House: A Series of Tales

What danger need a dying person fear? Some few hours sooner or later would be of little consequence—
Come he slow, or come he fast,
It is but death that comes at last. Yet, Laura, do you think I have forgotten old times! Oh, no!—not while I live. You attend to my feelings, and surely it is my duty to remember yours.”
“Never mind me, Frank!” whispered Laura. “I have got over all that folly. When real fears and sorrows come, we care no more about those that were imaginary.”
“True, my dear sister; and there is no courage or fortitude like that derived from faith in a superintending providence.
Source: Gutenberg

Catherine Sinclair Holiday House: A Series of Tales

Many persons were already passing by—the busy stir of life had begun, and a boy strolling along the road whistled his merry tune as he went gaily on.
“We are indeed mere atoms in the world!” thought Laura bitterly, while these sights and sounds fell heavily on her heart. “If Harry and I had both been dead also, the sun would have shone as brightly, the birds sung as joyfully, and those people been all as gay and happy as ever! Nobody is thinking of Frank—nobody knows our misery—the world is going on as if nothing had happened, and we are breaking our hearts with grief!”
Source: Gutenberg

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