"Next day he brought her some flowers, and she began to get better.
Then he took her out to ride. One night about ten o'clock the
nurse comes into the room sudden like, and finds him on his knees
before the widow, kissing her dress an' talking all kinds o'
nonsense."
"Here! stop a minute," said the sister Lize, who had now dropped
her knitting and begun to fan herself. "You take my breath away."
The details were too important for hasty consideration.
"Makin' love?" said she with the beads, thoughtfully.
"I should think likely," said the other, whereupon the three began
to laugh again. Their merriment over, through smiles they gave
each other looks of dreamy reflection.
"Now go on," said the sister Lize, leaning forward, her chin upon
her hands.
"There he knelt, kissing her dress," the narrator continued.
"Why didn't he kiss her face?"
"Because she wouldn't let him, I suppose."
"Oh!" said the others, nodding their heads, thoughtfully.
"When the nurse came," the sister Serene continued, "the widow went
to a desk and wrote a letter and brought it to Dick. Then says the
widow, says she: 'You take this to my uncle in Boston. If you can
make him give his consent, I'd be glad to see you again.
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