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Updated: June 1, 2025
Aunt M'riar's unfinished sentence had begun with "Gracious mercy!..." Its sequel: "Well now to think of a lady like that! My word! And Typhus Fever, too!" was dependent on it, and contained an element of resignation to Destiny. Dave struck in with irrelevant matter; as he frequently did, to throw side-lights on obscurities.
Keep in mind that all Uncle Mo's knowledge of Aunt M'riar's antecedents was summed up in the fact of her widowhood, which he took for granted although he had never received it totidem verbis when she first came to supplant Mrs. Twiggins and which had been confirmed as Time went on, and no husband appeared to claim her.
She put Dolly at different distances, ending with a hug and a kiss, of which Dolly reciprocated the latter. Dolly would have embarked at once on a full report, if left to herself. But that unfortunate disposition of Aunt M'riar's to godmother or countersign the utterances of the young, very nearly nipped her statement in the bud.
Uncle Mo resumed: "So perhaps you're right to put it they are like my own children, and M'riar's." He was so chivalrously anxious not to exclude his co-guardian from her rights that he might have laid himself open to be misunderstood by a stranger. Miss Grahame understood him, however. So she did, thoroughly, when he went on: "I don't take at all kindly, though, to their growing older.
The manager had said that at eleven all sober folks had gone and that those who still remained were all too drunk to know if there was music or was not; but the old man did not tell his daughter this. He hoped that she would never know how humble and unpleasant the work which he had found must be. The very next day Vanderlyn appeared, to M'riar's satisfaction and Anna's fluttering joy.
It cannot be developed in its fulness late in life. Aunt M'riar's protest was feeble in the extreme. "Well, I should be ashamed to let a lady carry me! That I should!" If Aunt M'riar had known the resources of the Latin tongue, she might have introduced the expression ceteris paribus. No English can compass that amount of slickness; so her speech was left crude.
"Well now you ask me I should say Mrs. Prichard she wants the child all to herself." Aunt M'riar's assumption that this inquiry had been made without suggestion on her own part was unwarranted. "I'll tell you, ladies," said Uncle Mo, rolling with laughter. "The old granny's just as jealous as any schoolgirl! She's that, and you may take my word for it."
For she came out saying: "I can't only do five-and-nine, Mo. Can't you make out with that?" Uncle Mo still looked at the twelve-and-nine he already had in hand, as though it was a peculiar twelve-and-nine, that might consent for once to make nineteen shillings, the sum required, when added to Aunt M'riar's contribution; but he was obliged to yield to the inflexible nature of Arithmetic.
What Phoebe would have been if she had married my husband's brother Mrs. Ralph Daverill...." "Good Lord!" exclaimed Aunt M'riar. "Ah, there now!" said the old lady. "To think I should never have told you his name!" She missed the full strength of Aunt M'riar's exclamation; accounted it mere surprise at what was either a reference to a former husband or an admission of a pseudonym.
"That's a queer way of showin' off with a knife! P'r'aps it warn't open, though?" But it was, by M'riar's silence. "Anyways," Mo continued, "he won't come back so long as he thinks I'm here. To-morrow morning first thing I shall just drop round to the Station, and tip 'em a wink. Can't have this sort o' thing goin' on!" M'riar's lighting of a candle seemed to hang fire.
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