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"I'll shew you, if Rose will go to her room and oblige me by
putting on what she finds there," answered the Doctor, with
"Alec, if it is a Bloomer, I shall protest. I've been expecting it, but I
know I cannot bear to see that pretty child sacrificed to your wild
ideas of health. Tell me it isn't a Bloomer!" and Mrs. Clara clasped
her hands imploringly.
"It is not."
"Thank Heaven!" and she resigned herself with a sigh of relief,
adding plaintively, "I did hope you'd accept my suit, for poor Rose
has been afflicted with frightful clothes long enough to spoil the
taste of any girl."
"You talk of my afflicting the child, and then make a helpless guy
like that of her!" answered the Doctor, pointing to the little fashion
plate that was scuttling out of sight as fast as it could go.
He closed the door with a shrug, but before anyone could speak,
his quick eye fell upon an object which caused him to frown, and
demand in an indignant tone
"After all I have said, were you really going to tempt my girl with
those abominable things?"
"I thought we put them away when she wouldn't wear them,"
murmured Mrs. Clara, whisking a little pair of corsets out of sight
with guilty haste. "I only brought them to try, for Rose is growing
stout, and will have no figure if it is not attended to soon," she
added, with an air of calm conviction that roused the Doctor still
more, for this was one of his especial abominations.
"Growing stout! Yes, thank Heaven, she is, and shall continue to
do it, for Nature knows how to mould a woman better than any
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