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Updated: May 5, 2025
But his simplicity and truthfulness came to his aid, and he said firmly, although with a crimson face, "I am sorry I cannot accept your generous proposition, but I will give in accordance with my ability. I can give only five dollars." Mr. Dimmerly and Mrs. Marchmont looked annoyed, while Addie gave utterance to an audible titter. Bel laughed, and then looked as if she had done wrong.
Lottie looked after him with sudden intelligence, and asked herself, "Now what does he mean by that? Does he suspect anything?" At the dinner-table Mr. Dimmerly indulged in a long homily on the importance of keeping up old customs, and ended with a sly, significant glance at Lottie, which brought the color into her face.
Dimmerly on the stairs, who took the brandy from her, saying: "That's sensible. We'll rub him down with it, inside and out, and he'll be all right in the morning. Now you see how blood tells. Making a parson of him can't change the fact of his coming from an old family. He has been as brave to-night as the Dimmerlys were a thousand years ago."
An hour passed, and another; still he did not return. Lottie's head bent lower and lower over her work. Mr. Dimmerly never played a more wretched game of whist. At last he quite startled them all by throwing down the cards and saying, in the most snappish of tones, "I wish the blockhead would come home." "Why, brother, what is the matter?" asked Mrs. Marchmont, in a tone of surprise.
As if it could be, or ever had been 'stopped, since Adam and Eve first cast sheep's eyes at each other in the Garden of Eden." His sister left the room with a gesture of annoyance. Suddenly the little man's queer, cackling laugh ceased, and his wrinkled face grew sad and thoughtful as he sighed: "I'm the only Dimmerly who was ever 'stopped, fool that I was.
Entreaty, remonstrance, the assumption of hurt and injured tones, were alike unavailing. She lay motionless, like one stunned and under partial paralysis. Mrs. Marchmont lost her complacency utterly, and Mr. Dimmerly proved but a Job's comforter, as he snarled, "You have stopped it with a vengeance. It's always the way when people meddle."
Where is your hat, that you should talk prudence to me?" But the others were more thoughtful of themselves, and were well protected as they now also came out upon the piazza. "Well, it is a little queer," said Mr. Dimmerly. "I suppose one ought to go and see what it means," said Bel, hesitatingly. "But then there are those better able to go than any one from here." "Hush!" said Hemstead.
"All this counts for nothing," said Lottie, with a little impatient stamp of her foot. "I promised that dear old meddler, Uncle Dimmerly, that you, in deep humility and penitence for having arrogantly assumed that you could be a missionary and I couldn't, should ask me to be a home missionary; and you have wasted lots of precious time."
At the head of the table sat a gentleman as yet not introduced, Mr. Dimmerly by name, a bachelor brother of Mrs. Marchmont who resided with her. He was a quaint-appearing little man, who in a greater degree than his age required seemed to belong to a former generation.
"Uncle," cried Lottie, "you know all about the river. How do you account for what Mr. Hemstead has seen?" and she explained. "Lights are very deceptive at night, especially upon the water," said Mr. Dimmerly, sententiously. "It's probably a hardy water-rat of a boatman dropping down with the tide to a point opposite to where he wishes to land." "Yes, that is it, Mr.
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