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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"


In times past it would have cooled David with misgivings, but now he
did not give himself time to be discouraged; he came to make a last
desperate effort, and he made it at once.
"Miss Lucy, I have got the _Rajah,_ thanks to you."
"Thanks to me, Mr. Dodd? Thanks to your own high character and merit."
"No, Miss Lucy, you know better, and I know better, and there is your
own sweet handwriting to prove it."
"Miss Dodd has showed you my letter?"
"How could she help it?"
"What a pity! how injudicious!"
"The truth is like the light; why keep it out? Yes; what I have worked
for, and battled the weather so many years, and been sober and
prudent, and a hard student at every idle hour--that has come to me in
one moment from your dear hand."
"It is a shame."
"Bless you, Miss Lucy," cried David, not noting the remark.
Lucy blushed, and the water stood in her eyes. She murmured softly:
"You should not say Miss Lucy; it is not customary. You should say
Lucy, or Miss Fountain."
This _apropos_ remark by way of a female diversion.
"Then let me say Lucy to-day, for perhaps I shall never say that, or
anything that is sweet to say again. Lucy, you know what I came for?"
"Oh, yes, to receive my congratulations."
"More than that, a great deal--to ask you to go halves in the
_Rajah."_
Lucy's eyebrows demanded an explanation.
"She is worth two thousand a year to her commander; and that is too
much for a bachelor."
Lucy colored and smiled.


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