"Why?" asked Dora again.
Sister Cecilia looked rather bewildered.
"Well, dear, I thought perhaps--I always thought that my poor boy
entertained some feeling--you understand?"
"No," replied Dora, borrowing for the moment her father's most crushing
deliberation of manner, "I cannot say I do. When you say your 'poor boy,'
are you referring to Jem?"
Sister Cecilia assented with a resigned nod worthy of the very earliest
martyr.
"Then, as every one has discovered so many virtues in him--quite
suddenly--we had better emulate one of them, and have at the least the
good feeling to hold our tongues about any feelings he may have
entertained. Do you not think so, Sister Cecilia?"
"Well, dear, I only thought to act as might be best for you," said the
well-intentioned meddler, with the drawl of the professionally
misunderstood.
"I have no doubt of that," returned Dora, with an equanimity which was
again strangely suggestive of Jem Agar. "But in future you will be
consulting my welfare much more effectively by refraining from action on
my behalf at all.
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