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Habberton, John, 1842-1921

"Helen's Babies"

Then your youngest playfully spilt a plate of soup on my
dress (don't be worried--'twas only a common muslin, and 'twill
wash). Of course I had to change it, and as I retired the happy
thought struck me that I'd make so elaborate a toilet that I
wouldn't finish in time to join the other ladies for the usual
evening walk; consequence, I would have a chance to monopolize a
gentleman for half an hour or more--a chance which, no thanks to
the gentlemen who don't come to Hillcrest, no lady here has had
this season. Every time I peered through the blinds to see if the
other girls had started, I could see HIM, looking so distressed,
and brooding over those two children as if he was their mother,
and he seemed so good. He seemed pleased to see ME when I
appeared, and coming from such a man, the implied compliment was
fully appreciated; everything he said to me seemed a little more
worth hearing than if it had come from any man not so good. Then
suddenly your eldest insisted on retailing the result of a
conversation he had had with his uncle, and the upshot was that
Harry declared himself; he wasn't romantic a bit, but he was real
straightforward and manly, while I was so completely taken aback
that I couldn't think of a thing to say. Then the impudent fellow
kissed me, and I lost my tongue worse than ever.


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