The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. See paragraph 1.
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