a year younger than you. The mother died, but whether
the child survived her or not I
have never learned." "What
was her name?" asked Louise. "I cannot remember. But it is
unimportant. You are the only Merrick of them all, and that
is doubtless the reason Jane has sent
for you." The girl shook her blonde head. "I don't like it," she
observed.
"Don't like what?" "All this string of relations. It complicates
matters." Mrs. Merrick seemed annoyed. "If you fear your own
persuasive powers," she said, with almost a sneer in her tones,
"you'd better not go to Elmhurst. One or the other of
your country cousins might supplant you
in your dear aunt's affections." The girl yawned
and took up her neglected novel. "Nevertheless, mater dear," she said
briefly, "I shall go." CHAPTER III. PATSY. "Now, Major, stand up
straight and behave yourself! How do you expect me to sponge your
vest when you're wriggling around in that way?" "Patsy, dear, you're
so sweet this evening, I just
had to kiss your lips." "Don't do
it again, sir," replied Patricia, severely, as she scrubbed
the big man's waistcoat with a damp cloth. "And tell me, Major, how
you ever happened to get into such a disgraceful condition." "The
soup
just shpil
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