as been
remarkably bewildering in her remarks, but I gather that it is something
like a confidential talk that you are seeking with the doctor, into
which I am not to be admitted."
"I forgot that you were along," said Eurie, with her usual frankness.
"No, Nell, we don't want you to call with us; not this time."
"I might ask for a separate room, and make my call on Miss Grace. At
least I might try it; but I doubt her father's permitting such a
tremendous action: so, really, I don't see quite what you are to do with
me. I am entirely at your disposal."
"See here, Nell, couldn't you call for us, in half an hour, say? Girls,
_could_ we stay half an hour, do you suppose? We shall have to do
something of the kind; it won't do for us to go home alone. I see what
we can do, Nell. You go to father's office, and wait just a little
while; if we are not there in half an hour, you can call for us at Dr.
Dennis'; and if we find we are not equal to a call of that length, we
will come to the office; will that do?"
The obliging brother made a low bow of mock ceremony, assured her that
he was entirely at her service, that she might command him and he would
serve to the best of his knowledge and ability, made a careful minute of
the present time, in order to be exact at the half hour, and as they
laughingly declined his offer to ring the doctor's bell for them, he
lifted his hat to them, with the lowest of bows, and disappeared around
the corner.
"He is such a dear fellow!" said Eurie, looking fondly after him.
"I don't see in what respect," muttered Ruth in an aside to Flossy. Ruth
had a special aversion to this young man; possibly it might have been
because he treated her with the most good-humored indifference, despite
all her dignity and coldness.
Meantime, in Dr. Dennis' study, his daughter was hovering around among
the books, trying to bring order out of confusion on the shelves and
table, and at the same time find a favorite volume she was reading. The
doctor turned on a brighter flame of gas, then lowered it, and seemed
in a disturbed state of mind. At last he spoke:
"I don't know that my caution is needed, daughter--I have no reason to
think that it is, from anything in your conduct at least; but I feel
like saying to you that I have less and less liking for those young
ladies, who seem, since their unfortunate freak of attending that
Chautauqua meeting, to have banded themselves together, I can hardly
imagine w
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