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Blanchard, Amy Ella, 1856-1926

"A Sweet Little Maid"


"She seems perfectly satisfied," said he, looking at his brother.
"Perfectly," he answered. "You could not have pleased her better."
"But, Uncle Heath," said Dimple, "I didn't know you knew Mrs. Hardy."
"I knew her long ago, when she wasn't Mrs. Hardy, but Dora West. Long
ago," he repeated, gently stroking her hair.
"Why didn't you marry her then?"
"I wanted to," said he, simply, "but I couldn't. Do you want to be
bridesmaid, Dimple?"
"Oh, uncle! Could I?"
"Yes, indeed; and Rock groomsman. We are such a young, frivolous couple,
we couldn't think of having a grown-up young lady for bridesmaid."
Dimple laughed, and sat in supreme content on her uncle's knee till the
breakfast bell rang.
"Florence, I know all about it," she cried, as Florence came in, "and I
am going to be bridesmaid, and I know why Uncle Heath is happy, and why
Rock can be my cousin. Isn't it lovely?"
Florence looked puzzled, but after a clearer explanation agreed with
Dimple that it was "perfectly lovely."
Rock came over after breakfast, with a message for Mrs. Dallas, and
Dimple ran out to meet him, crying, "Oh, Rock! your papa is here, and
you are going to be my cousin, really and truly. Did you know it?"
"Yes, I knew," said he, "and I'm real glad. Where is Mr. Dallas?"
"My Uncle Heath, or papa?"
"Your Uncle Heath.


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