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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

Some lovers
equally ardent would have seen more to repine at than to enjoy in the
whole situation; not so David. She sat between Kenealy and Hardie, but
her presence filled the whole room, and he who loved her better than
any other had the best right to be happy in the place that held her.
He had only to turn his eyes, and he could see her. What a blessing,
after a month of vacancy and darkness. This simple idolatry made him
so happy that his heart overflowed on all within reach. He gave Mrs.
Bazalgette answers full of kindness and arch gayety combined. He
charmed an old married lady on his right. His was the gay, the merry
end of the table, and others wished themselves up at it.
After the ladies had retired, his narrative powers, _bonhomie_
and manly frankness soon told upon the men, and peals of genuine
laughter echoed up to the very drawing-room, bringing a deputation
from the kitchen to the keyhole, and irritating the ladies overhead,
who sat trickling faint monosyllables about their three little topics.
Lucy took it philosophically. "Now those are the good creatures that
are said to be so unhappy without us. It was a weight off their minds
when the door closed on our retiring forms--ha! ha!"
"It was a restraint taken off them, my dear," said Mrs. Mordan, a
starched dowager, stiffening to the naked eye as she spoke. "When they
laugh like that, they are always saying something improper."
"Oh, the wicked things," replied Lucy, mighty calmly.


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