“Uncle,” said Lucy, speaking very quickly, “you are unhappy. I am the cause. I am come to say that I promise you not to marry anyone my aunt shall propose to me.”
“My dear girl, then you won't marry that shopkeeper there?”
“What need of names, still less of epithets? I will marry no friend of hers.”
“Ah! now you are my brother's daughter again.”
“No, I love you no better than I did this morning; but the—”
Celestial happiness diffused itself over old Fountain's face, and Lucy glided back to the piano just as the quadrille ended.
“Give me your arm, Mr. Dodd,” said she, authoritatively. She took his arm, and made the tour of the room leaning on him, and chatting gayly.
She introduced him to the best people, and contrived to appear to the whole room joyous and flattered, leaning on David's arm.
The young fellows envied him so.
Every now and then David felt her noble white arm twitch convulsively, and her fingers pinch the cloth of his sleeve where it was loose.