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"The Whole Family: a Novel by Twelve Authors"

Peggy was
much interested in a casual remark expressing my pleasure in hearing
that she had recently met the nephew of one of my very old friends,
Stillman Dane.
"Oh," she cried, "do you know HIM? Isn't that lovely?"
I admitted that he was a very good person to know, though I had only
seen a little of him, about six years ago. But his uncle, the one who
lately died and left a snug fortune to his favorite nephew, was one of
my old bachelor cronies, in fact, a member of the firm that published
my books. If the young man resembled his uncle he was all right. Did
Peggy like him?
"Why, yes," she answered. "He was a professor at our college, and all
the girls thought him a perfect dandy!"
"Dandy!" I exclaimed. "There was no sign of an excessive devotion to
dress when I knew him. It's a great pity!"
"Oh!" she cried, laughing, "I don't mean THAT. It is only a word we
girls use; it means the same as when you say, 'A VERY FINE FELLOW
INDEED."'
From that point we played the Stillman Dane tune, with variations,
until we reached home, very late indeed for supper. The domestic
convulsion caused by the formal announcement of Talbert's sudden
decision had passed, leaving visible traces. Maria was flushed, but
triumphant; Alice and Billy had an air of conscience-stricken
importance; Charles Edward and Lorraine were sarcastically submissive;
Cyrus was resolutely jovial; the only really tranquil one was Mrs.


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