The Uncle of an Angel: 1891Janvier, Thomas A. (Thomas Allibone)
General
The Uncle of an Angel: 1891
Janvier, Thomas A. (Thomas Allibone)
United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Mr. Port replied to this emphatic assertion by a low, but most pointedly
incredulous, whistle.
“You have not the slightest conception, as such a comment shows,” Mr.
Brown continued, with increasing asperity, “of the depths of sweetness
and tenderness which are in her nature; of her perfect unselfishness;
of the gentleness and trustfulness of her heart. She is all that a woman
can be, and more. She is--she is an angel!” Mr. Brown’s elderly voice
trembled as he made this avowal.
As for Mr. Port, his astonishment was almost too deep for words. But he
managed to say: “Yes, I suppose she is--at least she has said so often
enough herself.”
For some seconds there was silence; and then, with a deprecating manner
and in a voice from which all trace of resentment had disappeared, Mr.
Brown resumed: “Hutch, old man, you and I have been friends these many
years together, and you won’t fail me in your friendship now, will
you? You are right, I _am_ in love with this sweet young creature, and
she--think of it, Hutch!--she has admitted that she is in love with me;
not romantically in love, for that would be, not absurd, of course,
but a little unreasonable--for while I’m not at all old, yet I know,
of course, that I am not exactly what can be called young--but in love
sensibly and rationally. She wants to take care of me, she says, the
dear child!” (Mr. Port grunted.) “And she has such clever notions in
regard to my health. When we are married--how strange and how delightful
it sounds, Hutch!--she says that we will go immediately to Carlsbad,
where the waters will do my rheumatism a world of good; and from there,
when I am better, we will go on to Vienna, where the dry climate and the
white wines, she thinks, still further will benefit me; and from Vienna,
in order to set me on my feet completely, we are to go on to the North
and spend a winter in Russia--for there is nothing that cures rheumatism
so quickly and so thoroughly, she says (though I never should have
imagined it) as steady and long-continued cold. Just think of her
planning it all out for me so well!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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