CHAPTER IX.
THE ECHOES IN THE EAST CANYON.
LIONEL certainly did redden when Johnnie's message was delivered to him.The quick-eyed Elsie noted it and darted a look at Clover, but Cloveronly shook her head slightly in return. Each sister adhered to her ownopinion.
They were very desirous that the High Valley should make a favorableimpression on Dorry, for it was his first visit to them. The others hadall been there except Katy, and she had seen Cheyenne and St. Helen's,but to Dorry everything west of the Mississippi was absolutely new. Hewas a very busy person in these days, and quite the success of the Carrfamily in a moneyed point of view. The turn for mechanics which heexhibited in boyhood had continued, and determined his career.Electrical science had attracted his attention in its earlier,half-developed stages; he had made a careful study of it, and qualifiedhimself for the important position which he held under the company,which was fast revolutionizing the lighting and street-car system ofBurnet, now growing to be a large manufacturing centre. This was doingwell for a young fellow not quite twenty-five, and his family were veryproud of him. He was too valuable to his employers to be easily spared,and except for the enforced leisure of the grippe it might probably havebeen years before he felt free to make his sisters in Colorado a visit,in which case nothing would have happened that did happen.
"Dear, steady old Sobersides!" said Elsie, as she spread a fresh coverover the shelf which did duty for a bureau in the Bachelors' Room; "Iwonder what he will think of it all. I'm afraid he will be scandalizedat our scrambling ways, and our having no regular church, and considerus a set of half-heathen Bohemians."
"I don't believe it. Dorry has too much good sense, and has seen toomuch of the world among business men to be easily shocked. And ourlittle Sunday service is very nice, I think; Geoff reads soreverently,--and for sermons, we have our pick of the best there are."
"I know, and I like them dearly myself; but I seem to feel that Dorrywill miss the pulpit and sitting in a regular pew. He's rather that sortof person, don't you think?"
"You are too much inclined to laugh at Dorry," said Clover, reprovingly,"and he doesn't deserve it of you. He's a thoroughly good, sensiblefellow, and has excellent abilities, papa says,--not brilliant, but verysound. I don't like to have you speak so of him."
"Why, Clovy--my little Clovy, I almost believe you are scolding me! Letme look at you,--yes, there's quite a frown on your forehead, and yourmouth has the firm look of grandpapa Carr's daguerreotype. I'll begood,--really I will. Don't fire again,--I've 'come down' like the coonin the anecdote. Dorry's a dear, and you are another, and I'm ever soglad he's coming; but really, it's not in human nature not to laugh atthe one solemn person in a frivolous family like ours, now is it?"
"See that you behave yourself, then, and I'll not scold you any more,"replied Clover, magisterially, and ignoring the last question. Shemarred the effect of her lecture by kissing Elsie as she spoke; but itwas hard to resist the temptation, Elsie was so droll and coaxing, andso very pretty.
They expected to find Dorry still something of an invalid, and madepreparations accordingly; but there was no sign of debility in his jumpfrom the carriage or his run up the steps to greet them. He was a littlethinner than usual, but otherwise seemed quite himself.
"It's the air," explained Johnnie, "this blessed Western air! He wasforlorn when we left Burnet, and _so_ tired when we got to Chicago; butafter that he improved with every mile, and when we reached Denver thismorning he seemed fresher than when we started. I do think Colorado airthe true elixir of life."
"It is quite true, what she says. I feel like a different man already,"added Dorry. "Clover, you look a little pulled down yourself. Was itnursing Miss What's-her-name?"
"I'm all right. Another day or two will quite rest me. I came home onlyday before yesterday, you see. How delicious it is to have you bothhere! Dorry dear, you must have some beef-tea directly,--Euphane has alittle basin of it ready,--and dinner will be in about an hour."
"Beef-tea! What for? I don't need anything of the sort, I assure you.Roast mutton, which I seem to smell in the distance, is much more in myline. I want to look about and see your house. What do you call thatsnow-peak over there? This is a beautiful place of yours, I declare."
"Papa would open his eyes if he could see him," remarked Johnnie,confidentially, when she got her sisters to herself a little later."It's like a miracle the way he has come up. He was so dragged andmiserable and so _very_ cross only three days ago. Now, you dear things,let me look at you both. Are you quite well? How are thebrothers-in-law? Where are the babies, and what have you done with MissYoung?"
"The brothers-in-law are all right. They will be back presently. Thereis a round-up to-day, which was the reason we sent Isadore in with thecarriage; no one else could be spared. The babies are having theirsupper,--you will see them anon,--and Imogen has gone for a fortnight toSt. Helen's."
"Oh!" Johnnie turned aside and began to take down her hair. "Mr. Youngis with her, I suppose."
"No, indeed, he is here, and staying with us. You will see him atdinner."
"Oh!" said Johnnie again. There was a difference between these two"ohs," which Elsie's quick ear detected.
"Please unlock that valise," went on Johnnie, "and take out the dresson top. This I have on is too dreadfully dusty to be endured."
Joanna Carr had grown up very pretty; many people considered her thehandsomest of the four sisters. Taller than any of them except Katy, andof quite a different build, large, vigorous, and finely formed, she hada very white skin, hair of pale bronze-brown, and beautiful velvety darkeyes with thick curling lashes. She had a turn for dress too, and allcolors suited her. The woollen gown of cream-yellow which she now put onseemed exactly what was needed to throw up the tints of her hair andcomplexion; but she would look equally well on the morrow in blue. Withquick accustomed fingers she whisked her pretty locks into a series ofartlessly artful loops, with little blowing rings about the forehead,and stuck a bow in here and a pin there, talking all the time, andfinally caught little Phillida up in her strong young arms, and randownstairs just in time to greet the boys as they dismounted at thedoor, and shake hands demurely with Lionel Young, who came with them.All three had raced down from the very top of the Upper Valley atbreakneck speed, to be in time to welcome the travellers.
There is always one moment, big with fate, when processes begin to takeplace; when the first fine needle of crystallization forms in thetransparent fluid; when the impulse of the jellying principle begins towork on the fruit-juice, and the frost principle to inform the wateratoms. These fateful moments are not always perceptible to our dullapprehensions, but none the less do they exist; and they are apt to takeus by surprise, because we have not detected the fine gradual chain ofpreparation which has made ready for them.
I think one of these fateful moments occurred that evening, as LionelYoung held Joanna Carr's hand, and his straight-forward English eyespoured an ardent beam of welcome into hers. They had seen a good deal ofeach other two years before, but neither was prepared to be quite soglad to meet again. They did not pause to analyze or classify theirfeelings,--people rarely do when they really feel; but from that nighttheir attitude toward each other was changed, and the change became moreapparent with every day that followed.
As these days went on, bright, golden days, cloudless, and full of thezest and snap of the nearing cold, Dorry grew stronger and stronger. Sowell did he feel that after the first week or so he began to allude tohimself as quite recovered, and to show an ominous desire to get back tohis work; but this suggestion was promptly scouted by everybody,especially by John, who said she had come for six weeks at least, andsix weeks at least she should stay,--and as much longer as she could;and that Dorry as her escort _must_ stay too, no matter how well hemight feel.
"Besides," she argued, "there's all your life before you in which to digaway at dynamos and things, and you may never be in Colorado again. Youwouldn't have the heart to disappoint Clove
r and Elsie and hurry back,when there's no real necessity. They are so pleased to have a visit fromyou."
"Oh, I'll stay! I'll certainly stay," said Dorry. "You shall have yourvisit out, John; only, when a fellow feels as perfectly well as I do, itseems ridiculous for him to be sitting round with his hands folded,taking a mountain cure which he doesn't need."
Autumn is the busiest season for cattlemen everywhere, which made it themore singular that Lionel Young should manage to find so much time forsitting and riding with Johnnie, or taking her to walk up the steepestand loneliest canyons. They were together in one way or another half theday at least; and during the other half Johnnie's face wore always apre-occupied look, and was dreamily happy and silent. Even Clover beganto perceive that something unusual was in the air, something that seemeda great deal too good to be true. She and Elsie held conferences inprivate, during which they hugged each other, and whispered that "If!whenever!--if ever!-- Papa would surely come out and live in theValley. He never could resist _three_ of his girls all at once." Butthey resolved not to say one word to Johnnie, or even _look_ as if theysuspected anything, lest it should have a discouraging effect.
"It never does to poke your finger into a bird's nest," observed Elsie,with a sapient shake of the head. "The eggs always addle if you do, orthe young birds refuse to hatch out; and of course in the case ofturtle-doves it would be all the more so. 'Lay low, Bre'r Fox,' and waitfor what happens. It all promises delightfully, only I don't seeexactly, supposing this ever comes to anything, how Imogen Young is tobe disposed of."
"We won't cross that bridge till we come to it," said Clover; but allthe same she did cross it in her thoughts many times. It is not in humannature to keep off these mental bridges.
At the end of the fortnight Imogen returned in very good looks andspirits; and further beautified by a pretty autumn dress of dark blue,which Mrs. Hope had persuaded her to order, and over the making ofwhich she herself had personally presided. It fitted well, and set offto admiration the delicate pink and white of Imogen's skin, while thenew warmth of affection which had come into her manner was equallybecoming.
"Why didn't you say what a pretty girl Miss Young was?" demanded Dorrythe very first evening.
"I don't know, I'm sure. She looks better than she did before she wasill, and she's very nice and all that, but we never thought of her beingexactly pretty."
"I can't think why; she is certainly much better-looking than that MissChase who was here the other day. I should call her decidedly handsome;and she seems easy to get on with too."
"Isn't it odd?" remarked Elsie, as she retailed this conversation toClover. "Imogen never seemed to me so very easy to get on with, andDorry never before seemed to find it particularly easy to get on withany girl. I suppose they happen to suit, but it is very queer that theyshould. People are always surprising you in that way."
What with John's recently developed tendency to disappear into canyonswith Lionel Young, with the boys necessarily so occupied, and their ownmany little tasks and home duties, there had been moments during thefortnight when Clover and Elsie had found Dorry rather heavy on theirhands. He was not much of a reader except in a professional way, andstill less of a horseman; so the two principal amusements of the Valleycounted for little with him, and they feared he would feel dull, orfancy himself neglected. With the return of Imogen these apprehensionswere laid at rest. Dorry, if left alone, promptly took the trail in thedirection of the "Hutlet," returning hours afterward looking beaming andcontented, to casually mention by way of explanation that he had beenreading aloud to Miss Young, or that he and Miss Young had been taking awalk.
"It's remarkably convenient," Elsie remarked one evening; "but it's justas remarkably queer. What can they find to say to each other do yousuppose?"
If Dorry had not been Dorry, besides being her brother, she wouldprobably have arrived at a conclusion about the matter much sooner thanshe did. Quick people are too apt to imagine that slow people havenothing to say, or do not know how to say it when they have; while allthe time, for slow and quick alike, there is the old, old story for eachto tell in his own way, which makes the most halting lips momentarilyeloquent, and which both to speaker and listener seems forever new,fresh, wonderful, and inexhaustibly interesting.
In a retired place like the High Valley intimacies flourish withwonderful facility and quickness. A month in such a place counts formore than half a year amid the confusions and interruptions of the city.Dorry had been struck by Imogen that first evening. He had never got onvery well with girls, or known much about them; there was a delightfulnovelty in his present sensations. There was not a word as to the needof getting back to business after she dawned on his horizon. Quite thecontrary. Two weeks, three, four went by; the original limit set for thevisit was passed, the end of his holiday drew near, and still he stayedon contentedly, and every day devoted himself more and more to ImogenYoung.
She, on her part, was puzzled and fluttered, but not unhappy. She wasquite alive to Dorry's merits; he was her first admirer, and it was anew and agreeable feature of life to have one, "like other girls," asshe told herself. Lionel was too much absorbed in his own affairs tonotice or interfere; so the time went on, and the double entanglementwound itself naturally and happily to its inevitable conclusion.
It was in the beautiful little ravine to the east, which Clover hadnamed "Penstamen Canyon," from the quantity of those flowers which grewthere, that Dorry made his final declaration. There were no penstamensin the valley now, no yuccas or columbines, only a few belated autumncrocuses and the scarlet berried mats of kinnikinick remained; but theday was as golden-bright as though it were still September.
"We have known each other only four weeks," said Dorry, going straightto the point in his usual direct fashion; "and if I were going to stayon I should think I had no right, perhaps, to speak so soon,--for yoursake, mind, not for my own; I could not be surer about my feelings foryou if we had been acquainted for years. But I have to go away beforelong, back to my home and my work, and I really cannot go withoutspeaking. I must know if there is any chance for me."
"I like you very much," said Imogen, demurely.
"Do you? Then perhaps one day you might get to like me better still. I'ddo all that a man could to make you happy if you would, and I thinkyou'd like Burnet to live in. It's a big place, you know, with all themodern improvements,--not like this, which, pretty as it is, would berather lonely in the winters, I should think. There are lots of nicepeople in Burnet, and there's Johnnie, whom you already know, and myfather,--you'd be sure to like my father."
"Oh, don't go on in this way, as if it were only for the advantages ofthe change that I should consent. It would be for quite differentreasons, if I did." Then, after a short pause, she added, "I wonder whatthey will say at Bideford."
It was an indirect yes, but Dorry understood that it _was_ yes.
"Then you'll think of it? You don't refuse me? Imogen, you make me veryhappy."
Dorry did look happy; and as bliss is beautifying, he looked handsome aswell. His strong, well-knit figure showed to advantage in the roughclimbing-suit which he wore; his eyes sparkled and beamed as he lookedat Imogen.
"May I talk with Lionel about it?" he asked, persuasively. "Herepresents your father over here, you know."
"Yes, I suppose so." She blushed a little, but looked frankly up atDorry. "Poor Lion! it's hard lines for him, and I feel guilty at theidea of deserting him so soon; but I know your sisters will be good tohim, and I can't help being glad that you care for me. Only there's onething I must say to you, Theodore [no one since he was baptized had evercalled Dorry 'Theodore' till now!], for I don't want you to fancy menicer than I really am. I was horribly stiff and prejudiced when I firstcame out. I thought everything American was inferior and mistaken, andall the English ways were best; and I was nasty,--yes, really very nastyto your sisters, especially dear Clover. I have learned her worth now,and I love her and America, and I shall love it all the better for yoursake
; but all the same, I shall probably disappoint you sometimes, andbe stiff and impracticable and provoking, and you will need to havepatience with me: it's the price you must pay if you marry an Englishwife,--this particular English wife, at least."
"It's a price that I'll gladly pay," cried Dorry, holding her handtight. "Not that I believe a word you say; but you are the dearest,truest, honestest girl in the world, and I love you all the better forbeing so modest about yourself. For me, I'm just a plain, sober sort offellow. I never was bright like the others, and there's nothing in theleast 'subtle' or hard to understand about me; but I don't believe Ishall make the worse husband for that. It's only in French novels thatdark, inscrutable characters are good for daily use."
"Indeed, I don't want an inscrutable husband. I like you much better asyou are." Then, after a happy pause, "Isabel Templestowe--she's Geoff'ssister, you know, and my most intimate friend at home--predicted that Ishould marry over here, but I never supposed I should. It didn't seemlikely that any one would want me, for I'm not pretty or interesting,like your sisters, you know."
"Oh, I say!" cried Dorry, "haven't I been telling you that you interestme more than any one in the world ever did before? I never saw a girlwhom I considered could hold a candle to you,--certainly not one of myown sisters. You don't think your people at home will make anyobjections, do you?"
"No, indeed; they'll be very pleased to have me settled, I should think.There are a good many of us at home, you know."
Meanwhile, a little farther up the same canyon, but screened fromobservation by a projecting shoulder of rock, another equallysatisfactory conversation was going on between another pair of lovers.Johnnie and Lionel had strolled up there about an hour before Dorry andImogen arrived. They had no idea that any one else was in the ravine.
"I think I knew two years ago that I cared more for you than any oneelse," Lionel was saying.
"Did you? Perhaps the faintest suspicion of such a thing occurred to metoo."
"I used to keep thinking about you at odd minutes all day, when I wasworking over the cattle and everything, and I always thought steadilyabout you at night when I was falling asleep."
"Very strange, certainly."
"And the moment you came and I saw you again, it flashed upon me what itmeant; and I perceived that I had been desperately in love with you allalong without knowing it."
"Still stranger."
"Don't tease me, darling Johnnie,--no, Joan; I like that better thanJohnnie. It makes me think of Joan d'Arc. I shall call you that, may I?"
"How can I help it? You have a big will of your own, as I always knew.Only don't connect me with the ark unless you spell it, and don't callme Jonah."
"Never! He was the prophet of evil, and you are the good genius of mylife."
"I'm not sure whether I am or not. It plunges you into all sorts ofembarrassments to think of marrying me. Neither of us has any money.You'll have to work hard for years before you can afford a wife,--andthen there's your sister to be considered."
"I know. Poor Moggy! But she came out for my sake. She will probably beonly too glad to get home again whenever--other arrangements arepossible. Will you wait a while for me, my sweet?"
"I don't mind if I do."
"How long will you wait?"
"Shall we say ten years?"
"Ten years! By Jove, no! We'll say no such thing! But eighteenmonths,--we'll fix it at eighteen months, or two years at farthest. Ican surely fetch it in two years."
"Very well, then; I'll wait two years with pleasure."
"I don't ask you to wait _with pleasure_! That's carrying it a littletoo far!"
"I don't seem able to please you, whatever I say," remarked Johnnie,pretending to pout.
"Please me, darling Joan! You please me down to the ground, and youalways did! But if you'll wait two years,--not with pleasure, but withpatience and resignation,--I'll buckle to with a will and earn myhappiness. Your father won't be averse, will he?"
"Poor papa! Yes, he _is_ very averse to having his girls marry, but he'ssomewhat hardened to it. I'm the last of the four, you know, and I thinkhe would give his blessing to you rather than any one else, because youwould bring me out here to live near the others. Perhaps he will cometoo. It is the dream of Clover's and Elsie's lives that he should."
"That would be quite perfect for us all."
"You say that to please me, I know, but you will say it with all yourheart if ever it happens, for my father is the sweetest man in theworld, and the wisest and most reasonable. You will love him dearly. Hehas been father and mother and all to us children. And there's my sisterKaty,--you will love her too."
"I have seen her once, you remember."
"Yes; but you can't find Katy out at once,--there is too much of her.Oh, I've ever so many nice relations to give you. There's NedWorthington; he's a dear,--and Cousin Helen. Did I ever tell you abouther? She's a terrible invalid, you know, almost always confined to herbed or sofa, and yet she has been one of the great influences of ourlives,--a sort of guardian angel, always helping and brightening andcheering us all, and starting us in right directions. Oh, you must knowher. I can't think how you ever will, for of course she can never cometo Colorado; but somehow it shall be managed. Now tell me about _your_people. How many are there of you?"
"Eleven, and I scarcely remember my oldest brother, he went away fromhome so long ago. Jim was my chum,--he's no end of a good fellow. He'sin New Zealand now. And Beatrice--that's the next girl to Imogen--isawfully nice too, and there are one or two jolly ones among the smallerkids. Oh, you'll like them all, especially my mother. We'll go oversome day and make them a visit."
"That will be nice; but we shall have to wait till we grow rich beforewe can take such a long journey. Lion, do you think by-and-by we couldmanage to build another house, or move your cabin farther down theValley? I want to live nearer Clover and Elsie. You'll have to be away agood deal, of course, as the other boys are, and a mile is 'a goodishbit,' as Imogen would say. It would make all the difference in the worldif I had the sisters close at hand to 'put my lips to when sodispoged.'"
"Why, of course we will. Geoff built the Hutlet, you know; I didn't putany money into it. I chose the position because--well, the view wasgood, and I didn't know how Moggy would hit it off with the rest, youunderstand. I thought she might do better a little farther away; butwith you it's quite different of course. I dare say the Hutlet could bemoved; I'll talk to Geoff about it."
"I don't care how simple it is, so long as it is near the others," wenton Johnnie. "It's easy enough to make a simple house pretty and nice. Iam so glad that your house is in this valley, Lion."
A little pause ensued.
"What was that?" asked Johnnie, suddenly.
"What?"
"That sound? It seemed to come from down the canyon. Such a very oddecho, if it was an echo!"
"What kind of a sound? I heard nothing."
"Voices, I should say, if it were not quite impossible that it could bevoices,--very low and hushed, as if a ghost were confabulating withanother ghost about a quarter of a mile away."
"Oh, that must be just a fancy," protested Lionel. "There isn't a livingsoul within a mile of us."
"Voices, I should say, if it were not quite impossiblethat it could be voices,--very low and hushed."--PAGE 260.]
And at the same moment Dorry, a couple of hundred feet distant, wasremarking to Imogen:--
"These canyons do have the most extraordinary echoes. There's thestrangest cooing and sibilating going on above."
"Wood pigeons, most probably; there are heaps of them hereabout."
Presently the pair from above, slowly climbing down the ravinehand-in-hand, came upon the pair below, just rising from their seat togo home. There was a mutual consternation in the four countenancescomical to behold.
"You here!" cried Imogen.
"And _you_ here!" retorted Lionel. "Why, we never suspected it. Whatbrought you up?--and Carr, too, I declare!"
"Why--oh-
-it's a pretty place," stammered Imogen. "Theodore--Mr. Carr, Imean-- Now, Lionel, what _are_ you laughing at?"
"Nothing," said her brother, composing his features as best he could;"only it's such a very odd coincidence, you know."
"Very odd indeed," remarked Dorry, gravely. The four looked at oneanother solemnly and questioningly, and then--it was impossible to helpit--all four laughed.
"By Jove!" cried Lionel, between his paroxysms, "I do believe we haveall come up here on the same errand!"
"I dare say we have," remarked Dorry; "there were some extremely queerechoes that came down to us from above."
"Not a bit queerer, I assure you, than some which floated up to us frombelow," retorted Johnnie, recovering her powers of speech.
"We thought it was doves."
"And we were sure it was ghosts,--affectionate ghosts, you know, onexcellent terms with each other."
"Young, I want a word with you," said Dorry, drawing Lionel aside.
"And I want a word with you."
"And I want several words with you," cried Johnnie, brightly, puttingher arm through Imogen's. She looked searchingly at her.
"I'm going to be your sister," she said; "I've promised Lionel. Are yougoing to be mine?"
"Yes,--I've promised Theodore--"
"Theodore!" cried Johnnie, with a world of admiration in her voice."Oh, you mean Dorry. We never call him that, you know."
"Yes, I know, but I prefer Theodore. Dorry seems a childish sort of namefor a grown man. Do you mean to say that you are coming out to theValley to live?"
"Yes, by-and-by, and you will come to Burnet; we shall just changeplaces. Isn't it nice and queer?"
"It is a sort of double-barrelled International Alliance," declaredLionel. "Now let us go down and astonish the others."
The others _were_ astonished indeed. They were prepared for Johnnie'sconfession, but had so little thought of Dorry's that for some time heand Imogen stood by unheeded, waiting their turn at explanation.
"Why, Dorry," cried Elsie at last, "why are you standing on one sidelike that with Miss Young? You don't look as surprised as you ought. Didyou hear the news before we did? Imogen dear,--it isn't such good newsfor you as for us."
"Oh, yes, indeed it is. I am quite as happy in it as you can be."
"Ladies and gentlemen," cried Lionel, who was in topping spirits andcould not be restrained, "this shrinking pair also have a tale to tell.It is a case of 'change partners all round and down the middle.' Let meintroduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Theo--"
"Lion, you wretched boy, stop!" interrupted Johnnie. "That's not at allthe right way to do it. Let _me_ introduce them. Friends and countrymen,allow the echoes of the Upper East Canyon to present to your favorableconsideration the echoes of the Lower East Canyon. We've all beensitting up there, 'unbeknownst,' within a few feet of each other, andnone of us could account for the mysterious noises that we heard, tillwe all started to come home, and met each other on the way down."
"What kind of noises?" demanded Elsie, in a suffocated voice.
"Oh, cooings and gurglings and soft murmurs of conversation andwhisperings. It was very unaccountable indeed, very!"
"Dorry," said Elsie, next day when she chanced to be alone with him,"Would you mind if I asked you rather an impertinent question? Youneedn't answer if you don't want to; but what was it that first put itinto your head to fall in love with Imogen Young? I'm very glad that youdid, you understand. She will make you a capital wife, and I'm going tobe very fond of her,--but still, I should just like to know."
"I don't know that I could tell you if I tried," replied her brother."How can a man explain that sort of thing? I fell in love because I wasdestined to fall in love, I suppose. I liked her at the start, andthought her pretty, and all that; and she seemed kind of lonely and leftout among you all. And then she's a quiet sort of girl, you know, not soready at talk as most, or so quick to pick at a fellow or trip him up.I've always been the slow one in our family, you see, and by way of achange it's rather refreshing to be with a woman who isn't so muchbrighter than I am. The rest of you jump at an idea and off it againwhile I'm gathering my wits together to see that there _is_ an idea.Imogen doesn't do that, and it rather suits me that she shouldn't.You're all delightful, and I'm very fond of you, I'm sure; but for awife I think I like some one more like myself."
"Of all the droll explanations that I ever heard, that is quite thedrollest," said Elsie to her husband afterward. "The idea of a man'sfalling in love with a woman because she's duller than his own sisters!Nobody but Dorry would ever have thought of it."
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