"
"Laugh away. I know you despise my sisterly advice. But you can never
say that I have not done my duty--"
"To the furniture, most assuredly," interrupted Marcus.
Miss Philomela Wilkeson heaved another sigh in the best style of
martyrdom, and precipitately left the room, followed by her brother's
cheerful, rattling laugh.
"A good old girl enough," said Marcus to himself, "but for her
well-meaning and strictly conscientious habit of making people
miserable."
Then he lighted his meerschaum, closed the window, squared his chair in
front of it, and looked out. His face instantly flushed with pleasure at
a strange sight. The blinds of the lower parlor windows across the way,
which had been shut for several weeks, were now thrown open, and the
white-haired old gentleman, looking thin and pale, sat in his armchair
in his old place, and was gazing at him. At least so Marcus thought; but
he hesitated to bow until the old gentleman gave a distinct salutation.
Marcus returned it two or three times with emphasis, as if to express
his great pleasure at seeing his unknown neighbor and friend again.
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