Janet's Love and Service. Margaret M. Robertson

Janet's Love and Service - Margaret M. Robertson


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       Margaret M. Robertson

      Janet's Love and Service

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066193270

       Chapter One.

       Chapter Two.

       Chapter Three.

       Chapter Four.

       Chapter Five.

       Chapter Six.

       Chapter Seven.

       Chapter Eight.

       Chapter Nine.

       Chapter Ten.

       Chapter Eleven.

       Chapter Twelve.

       Chapter Thirteen.

       Chapter Fourteen.

       Chapter Fifteen.

       Chapter Sixteen.

       Chapter Seventeen.

       Chapter Eighteen.

       Chapter Nineteen.

       Chapter Twenty.

       Chapter Twenty One.

       Chapter Twenty Two.

       Chapter Twenty Three.

       Chapter Twenty Four.

       Chapter Twenty Five.

       Chapter Twenty Six.

       Chapter Twenty Seven.

       Chapter Twenty Eight.

       Chapter Twenty Nine.

       Chapter Thirty.

       Chapter Thirty One.

       Chapter Thirty Two.

       Chapter Thirty Three.

       Chapter Thirty Four.

       Chapter Thirty Five.

       Chapter Thirty Six.

       Chapter Thirty Seven.

       Chapter Thirty Eight.

       Chapter Thirty Nine.

       Chapter Forty.

       Chapter Forty One.

       Chapter Forty Two.

       Chapter Forty Three.

       Chapter Forty Four.

       Table of Contents

      The longest day in all the year was slowly closing over the little village of Clayton. There were no loiterers now at the corners of the streets or on the village square—it was too late for that, though daylight still lingered. Now and then the silence was broken by the footsteps of some late home-comer, and over more than one narrow close, the sound of boyish voices went and came, from garret to garret, telling that the spirit of slumber had not yet taken possession of the place. But these soon ceased. The wind moved the tall laburnums in the lane without a sound, and the murmur of running water alone broke the stillness, as the gurgle of the burn, and the rush of the distant mill-dam met and mingled in the air of the summer night.

      In the primitive village of Clayton, at this midsummer time, gentle and simple were wont to seek their rest by the light of the long gloaming. But to-night there was light in the manse—in the minister’s study, and in other parts of the house as well. Lights were carried hurriedly past uncurtained windows, and flared at last through the open door, as a woman’s anxious face looked out.

      “What can be keeping him?” she murmured, as she shaded the flickering candle and peered out into the gathering darkness. “It’s no’ like him to linger at a time like this. God send he was at home.”

      Another


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