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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

You will write and tell me
his face when he comes home and hears I have been living and enjoying
myself in his den. I ordered my imperial into his bedroom. I took it
for granted that would be the only comfortable one in his house."
"Aunt Bazalgette!" cried Lucy, turning pale; "oh, aunt, what will
become of us?"
"Don't be frightened; the gray-haired monster that dyes his whiskers,
and gets him up to look only sixty, interposed and forbade the
consecration."
"I am glad of it. You shall sleep in mine, dear, and I will go into
the east room. It is a sweet little room."
"Is it? then why not put me there?" Lucy colored a little. "I think
mine would suit you better, dear, because it is larger and airier,
and--"
"I see. As you please; you know I never make difficulties."
"And how long have you been here, aunt?"
"About three hours."
"Three hours, and not send for me! I was only in the village. Did no
one tell you?"
"Yes; but you know it is not my way to make a fuss and put people out.
How could I tell? You might be agreeably employed, and I was sure of
you before bedtime."
Mighty-fine! but the truth is, she came to Font Abbey to pry. She had
heard a vague report about Lucy and a gentleman.
She was very glad to find Lucy was out; it gave her an opportunity.
She sent for Lucy's maid to help her unpack a dress or two--thirteen.
This girl was paid out of Lucy's estate, but did not know that. Mrs.
Bazalgette handed her her wages, and that gives an influence.


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