I'm sure that we have no right to expect you will stay
a minute longer than it is your interest to do so, and I do not know
that I wish it."
"Not wish it, Margery!" exclaimed the bee-hunter, in the manner of a
disappointed man. "I had supposed you would have wished my company.
But, now I know the contrary, I shall not much care how soon I go,
or into whose hands I fall."
It is strange how apt are those who ought to understand one another
so readily, to misinterpret each other's thoughts. Margery had never
seen the bee-hunter twenty-four hours before, though she had often
heard of him, and of his success in his art; for the fame of a man
of good reputation and active qualities spreads far on a frontier.
The very individual whose existence would be nearly overlooked in a
crowded region, shall be spoken of, and known by his qualities, a
hundred leagues from his place of residence, when settlements are
few and far apart. In this way, Margery had heard of Boden, or of
"Bourdon," as she called him, in common with hundreds who,
confounding his real name with his sobriquet, made the mistake of
using the last under the impression that it was the true
appellation.
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