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Updated: May 5, 2025
This was especially true of Miss Martell and her father, while Harcourt's face grew cold and satirical. Lottie looked pale and sullen, and De Forrest was evidently disgusted. Mr. Dimmerly fidgeted in his seat, and even complacent Mrs. Marchmont seemed a little ruffled and disturbed, while her daughter Addie was in a state of irritable protest against both preacher and sermon.
Dimmerly to shine out; and be proposed that some one should begin a story, and carry it forward to a certain point, then stop abruptly, while some one else took it up for a brief time, when, in like manner, it would again be dropped that another might continue it, so that each one who was willing might have a chance to contribute. "You commence, Mr. Harcourt," said Mr. Dimmerly.
It would be like a soldier asking a woman to share all the hardships and dangers of a campaign." Mr. Dimmerly stroked his chin thoughtfully, while he regarded his nephew with a shrewd, sidelong glance. "Well," said he, suggestively, "there is force in what you say. But is there any necessity of your being a home missionary, and living out among the 'border ruffians, as Lottie used to call them?
This was bringing the question home to Lottie in a way that she did not expect. Her heedless, wilful, impulsive brother, the dear torment of her life, was just the one an artful knave could mislead. For a moment or two she sat silent and thoughtful. All awaited her answer save Mr. Dimmerly, who, without his whist, had dropped off into a doze, as was his wont.
"You are correct, Miss Marsden," he replied, stiffly. As he turned away, she glanced at the card-players with a look of horror, as if they were committing sacrilege, and Harcourt had to improvise another poor joke to account for their increasing merriment. But Mr. Dimmerly looked at his nephew in dismay and some irritation.
"Very true, auntie, but I did! and, as far as I can judge, it's true in New York, whatever may be the case in the country. But come, we've had supper, and have kept you and uncle up too late already. Kiss your saucy niece good night; perhaps I'll be better one of these days." "If kissing will make you better, come here to me," said Mr. Dimmerly.
Dimmerly, deliberately, looking searchingly into her face all the time, "I have sounded that thick-headed nephew of mine there, you needn't start so: do you suppose a Dimmerly would betray a woman's secret? and what do you think he most dreads to discover as true? that you love him a little."
Dimmerly was the first to recover himself, and, after blowing his nose most vociferously, managed to say: "Well, nephew, it was hardly the thing to get a sermon off on us before Sunday, but, since it was rather well done, I don't think we will complain. I now suggest that you young people have some games that will set your blood in motion.
That he was sacrificing himself rather than ask her to share in his life's privation, did not occur to her. Restless and unhappy, she wandered into the dining-room, where she found Mr. Dimmerly standing on the hearth-rug, and staring at the fire in a fit of the deepest abstraction.
Dimmerly soon bustled in, and, looking wistfully at the game in progress, was about to propose that they form one likewise at their table, for an evening without cards was to him a mild form of purgatory. But Lottie anticipated him. Giving a signal to the others and drawing down her face to portentous length, she said to Hemstead, "I fear you do not approve of cards."
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