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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

She received his glance full in her eyes, absorbed it blandly,
then lowered her lashes a moment, then turned her head with a sweet
smile toward Eve. "I think you said your brother was engaged."
"No."
"I misunderstood you, then."
"Yes." Eve uttered this monosyllable so dryly that Lucy drew back, and
immediately turned the conversation into chit-chat.
It had not trickled above ten minutes when an exclamation from David
interrupted it. The young ladies turned instinctively, and there was
David flushing all over, and speaking to Mrs. Bazalgette with a
tremulous warmth, that, addressed as it was to a pretty woman, sounded
marvelously like love-making.
Lucy turned her crest round a little haughtily, and shot such a glance
on Eve. Eve read in it a compound of triumph and pique.

David came to Eve one morning with parchments in his hand and a merry
smile. "Eureka!"
"You're another," said Eve, as quick as lightning, and upon
speculation.
"I have made Mr. Fountain's pedigree out," explained David.
"You don't say so! won't he be pleased?"
"Yes. Do you think _she_ will be pleased?"
"Why not? She will look pleased, anyway. I say, don't you go and tell
them the whole county was owned by the Dodds before Fountain, or
Funteyn, or Font, was ever heard of."
"Hardly. I have my own weaknesses, my lass; I've no need to adopt
another man's."
"Bless my soul, how wise you are got! So sudden, too! You shouldn't
surprise a body like that.


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