After breakfast Mr. Dimmerly said, "Nephew, I wish you would do a little writing for me; my hand isn't as steady as it was"; and he took the student off to his private study.
After the writing was finished, Mr. Dimmerly gave a few awkward preliminary ahems, and then said, "So you go West next Monday?"
"Yes. I wish to get off on the first train."
"You seem very anxious to get away."
"I am sorry, now, I ever came," the young man said, in tones of the deepest sadness.
"Thank you."
"O, it's no fault of yours. You and aunt have been very kind, but—"
"But you are thinking of the 'noblest and most beautiful being in
existence,' as you once said, referring to my pretty little niece.
You have evidently changed your mind. Did you see some one in New
York you liked better?"
"I have not changed my mind. I have only learned too well what my mind is. I wish that I had learned it sooner. There is one thing that troubles me greatly, uncle. I cannot speak of it to aunt, because—Well, I can't. Do you think that Miss Marsden cares much for me? She will surely forget me, will she not, in the excitement of her city life? I do hope she has no such feeling as I have."
Mr. Dimmerly stared at his nephew as if he thought him demented.