human
Come, good people, come! she said, and began her rapid
gpt
Bless, O Lord, while the rest of the company were still drawing up their chairs.
human
Amen, soup, Mrs. Richie? she said, heartily. The ladling out of the soup was an outlet for her energy; and as Harris's ideals put all the dishes on the table at once, she was kept busy carving or helping, or, with the hospitable insistence of her generation, urging her guests to eat. Blair sat at the other end of the table in black silence. Once he looked at Mrs. Richie with an agonized gratitude in his beautiful eyes, like the gratitude of a hurt puppy lapping a friendly and helping hand; for Mrs. Richie, with the gentlest tact, tried to help him by ignoring him and talking to the young people about her. Elizabeth, too, endeavored to do her part by assuming (with furtive glances at David) a languid, young-lady-like manner, which would have made Blair chuckle at any less terrible moment. Even Mr. Ferguson, although still a little dazed by that encounter with his niece, came to the rescue--for the situation was, of course, patent--and talked to Mrs. Maitland; which, poor Blair thought,
gpt
Make haste, Harris! Make haste! What is all this delay? The delay was Harris's agitated endeavor to refresh his memory about
human
Is it _now_?
gpt
Oh, throw 'em out of the window.
human
Aw', now, Mr. Blair, poor Harris protested,
gpt
I clean forgot; is it with these here tomatoes, or with the dessert?
human
Go to the devil!
gpt
What's this nonsense? Mrs. Maitland demanded; then, realizing Blair's effort, she picked up a finger-bowl and looked at it, cocking an amused eyebrow.
human
Well, Blair, she said, with loud good nature,
gpt
and she made her crude jokes at everybody's expense, with side remarks to Robert Ferguson about their families:
human
That Knight boy is Molly Wharton's stepson; he looks like his father. Old Knight is an elder in The First Church; he hands round the hat for other people to put their money in--never gives anything himself. I always call his wife 'goose Molly.' ... Is that young Clayton, Tom Clayton's son? He looks as if he had some gumption; Tom was always Mr. Doestick's friend. ... I suppose you know that that West boy's grandmother wasn't sure who his grandfather was? ... Mrs. Richie's a pretty woman, Friend Ferguson; where are your eyes!