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Updated: May 22, 2025
Meanwhile Marmaduke and Miss McQuinch were becoming curious about Marian and Conolly. "I say, Nelly," he whispered, "Marian and that young man seem to be getting on uncommonly well together. She looks sentimentally happy, and he seems pleased with himself. Dont you feel jealous?" "Jealous! Why should I be?" "Out of pure cussedness.
"Oh dear, no," said Jane, smoothly. "I suppose you will be glad to get away from your home," said Mrs. McQuinch, incontinently. "Very glad," said Elinor. Mr. McQuinch, hurt, looked at her over his newspaper. Mrs. McQuinch was huffed. "I dont know what you are to do for clothes," she said, "unless Lydia and Jane are content to wear their last winter's dresses again this year."
"Both." "I believe your song comes next," said the clergyman to Conolly, who had been standing apart, listening to Miss McQuinch's performance. "Who is to accompany me, sir?" "Oh ah Miss McQuinch will, I am sure," replied the Rev. Mr. Lind, smiling nervously. Conolly looked grave. The young lady referred to closed her lips; frowned; said nothing. Marmaduke chuckled.
"Perhaps it is not an invitation," said Jane. "What else is it likely to be, child?" said Mrs. McQuinch. Then, as she thought how much pleasanter her home would be without Elinor, she added, "After all, it will do Nelly good to get away from here. She needs change, I think. I wish she would come down. It is too bad of her to be always late like this."
Meanwhile her silent resentment never softened, and the life of the family was embittered by their consciousness of it. It never occurred to Mrs. McQuinch, an excellent mother to her two eldest daughters, that she was no more fit to have charge of the youngest than a turtle is to rear a young eagle. The discomfort of their relations never shook her faith in their "naturalness."
Conolly shewed Miss McQuinch his opinion of this unhappy remark by a whimsical glance, which she repudiated by turning sharply away from him, and speaking as affectionately as she could to Marian. After dinner they returned to the drawing-room, which ran from the front to the back of the house.
"Yes; because she suffers her heart to direct her." "You are just as bad as the rest of your sex, I see. Where you cannot withold credit from a woman, you give it to her heart and deny it to her head." "There! I wont play any more," said Miss McQuinch, suddenly, at the other end of the room. "Have you finished your chess, Marian?" "We are nearly done. Ring for the lamps, please, Nelly.
McQuinch is quite dismayed at my departure, which he says will be the signal for a general breaking up; but this I cannot help. I shall be glad to go home, of course. Still, I am sorry to leave this place, where we have all been so jolly. I will write and let you know what train I shall come by; but you need not trouble to meet me, unless you like: I can get home quite well by myself.
"He is the worse for drink; but he is sober enough to know how to amuse himself at your expense," said Conolly, aloud. "Come up to the laboratory. Miss McQuinch is there." "But he is not fit," urged the clergyman. "Look at him trying to hang up his hat. How absurd I should rather say how deplorable! I assure you he is perfectly tipsy.
Miss McQuinch spent Christmas morning in her sitting-room reading; a letter which had come by the morning post. It was dated the 17th December at New York: and the formal beginning and ending were omitted. This was an old custom between Marian and her cousin. In their girlish correspondence they had expressed their affection by such modes of address as "My darling Marian," and "My dearest Nelly."
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