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Updated: April 30, 2025
Truly, Miss MacDowlas beheld her reprobate nephew in a new light, surrounded by a halo of innocent romance and unselfish tenderness. This poor little soul, who was breaking her heart for his sake, showed him sinned against but never sinning, unfortunate but never to blame, showed him honest, sweet of nature, true, and faultless. Where were his faults in the eyes of his first and last love?
In a fashion of her own Miss MacDowlas was rather fond of her companion. A girl who was shrewd, industrious, and often amusing, was not to be despised in her opinion; so she showed her fair young handmaiden a certain amount of respect. She had engaged companions before, who being entertaining were not trustworthy, or being trustworthy were insufferably dull.
At midnight the visitors went their several ways, and after they had dispersed and the rooms were quiet once again, Miss MacDowlas sent her companion to bed, or, at least, bade her good-night. "You had better go at once," she said. "I will remain to give orders to the servants. You look tired. The excitement has been too much for you."
Just as she had been ready to leave the house, Ralph Gowan had made his appearance, and Miss MacDowlas had called her down-stairs to entertain him. "I would not have cared about telling," cried Dolly, in tears, "but I could not tell her, and so I had to stay, and actually sing Aimée.
Was it quite a new thought, or was it because it had never come home to her in such a form before, this thought of Death? She started as if she had been stung. "If I should die!" she echoed. "Die!" "Phemie, my dear," said Miss MacDowlas, opening the door, "the professor is waiting down-stairs."
Poor old fellow!" and she gave vent to an unmistakable sigh. But the appearance of the elderly lady put an end to her regrets. The door opened and she entered, and Dolly rose to receive her. The next instant, however, she gave a little start. She had seen the elderly lady before, and confronting her now recognized her at once, Miss Berenice MacDowlas.
Gerald Chandos has no need to make his interview private. The doors are open to him at Bloomsbury Place so long as he behaves himself." "The more is the pity," answered Miss MacDowlas; "but that this was a private interview I am certain.
"Old Flynn has asked me to go to Dartmouth, to attend to some business for him, and I leave here to-morrow morning." "Very well!" she answered. "If we must wait a week, we must; but you can write to Dolly in the interval, and settle upon the day, and then she can speak to Miss MacDowlas." He agreed to the plan at once, and promised to write to Dolly that very night.
"If I had a cough," she said once to Miss MacDowlas, "I could understand that I was ill or if I suffered any actual pain, but I don't, and even the doctor admits that my lungs are safe enough. What is it that he says about me? Let me see. Ah, this is it: that I am 'below par fearfully below par, as if I was gold, or notes, or bonds, or something.
"That woman has a genius for presenting herself at inopportune times." "But it is n't Lady Augusta," Mollie objected. "It is n't the Bilberry carriage at all. Do you think I don't know 'the ark'?" "You ought to by this time," returned Phil. "I do, to my own deep grief." "It is the Brabazon Lodge carriage!" cried Mollie, all at once. "Miss MacDowlas is getting out, and yes, here is Dolly!"
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