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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

Oh, Baldwin, if it had pleased Heaven to take her by disease, it
would have been bad enough to lose her; but to be drowned! her clothes
all wetted through and through; her poor hair drenched, too; and then
the water is so cold at this time of year--oh! oh! Send me a cross of
jet, and jet beads, with the dress, and a jet brooch, and a set of jet
buttons, in case--besides--oh! oh! oh!--I expect every moment to see
her carried home, all pale and wetted by the nasty sea--oh! oh!--and
an evening dress of the same--the newest fashion. I leave it to you;
don't ask me any questions about it, for I can't and won't go into
that. I can try it on when it is made--oh! oh! oh!--it does not do to
love any creature as I loved my poor lost Lucy--and a black fan---oh!
oh!--and a dozen pair of black kid gloves--oh!--and a
mourning-ring--and--"
"Stop, aunt, or your love for me will be your ruin!" said Lucy,
coldly, and stood suddenly before the pair, looking rather cynical.
"What, Lucy! alive! No, her ghost--ah! ah!"
"Be calm, aunt; I am alive and well. Now, don't be childish, dear; I
have been in danger, but here I am."
Mrs. Bazalgette and Mrs. Baldwin flew together, and trembled in one
another's arms. Lucy tried to soothe them, but at last could not help
laughing at them. This brought Baldwin to her senses quicker than
anything; but Mrs. Bazalgette, who, like many false women, was
hysterical, went off into spasms--genuine ones. They gave her
salts--in vain.


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