Datasets:
edwindvinas
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testdataset

Dataset card Data Studio Files
xet
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that curious eyes were looking at her from every window.
“I suppose you’re going home, dear Doss?” said Cousin Georgiana as she
shook hands—furtively eyeing Valancy’s dress and wondering if she had
_any_ petticoat on at all.
“Sooner or later,” said Valancy cryptically.
“Then I’ll go along with you. I’ve been wanting to see you very
especially, Doss dear. I’ve something quite _wonderful_ to tell you.”
“Yes?” said Valancy absently. What on earth was Cousin Georgiana
looking so mysterious and important about? But did it matter? No.
Nothing mattered but Barney and the Blue Castle up back in Mistawis.
“Who do you suppose called to see me the other day?” asked Cousin
Georgiana archly.
Valancy couldn’t guess.
“Edward Beck.” Cousin Georgiana lowered her voice almost to a whisper.
“_Edward Beck_.”
Why the italics? And _was_ Cousin Georgiana blushing?
“Who on earth is Edward Beck?” asked Valancy indifferently.
Cousin Georgiana stared.
“Surely you remember Edward Beck,” she said reproachfully. “He lives in
that lovely house on the Port Lawrence road and he comes to our
church—regularly. You _must_ remember him.”
“Oh, I think I do now,” said Valancy, with an effort of memory. “He’s
that old man with a wen on his forehead and dozens of children, who
always sits in the pew by the door, isn’t he?”
“Not dozens of children, dear—oh, no, not dozens. Not even _one_ dozen.
Only nine. At least only nine that count. The rest are dead. He isn’t
old—he’s only about forty-eight—the prime of life, Doss—and what does
it matter about a wen?”
“Nothing, of course,” agreed Valancy quite sincerely. It certainly did
not matter to her whether Edward Beck had a wen or a dozen wens or no
wen at all. But Valancy was getting vaguely suspicious. There was
certainly an air of suppressed triumph about Cousin Georgiana. Could it
be possible that Cousin Georgiana was thinking of marrying again?
Marrying Edward Beck? Absurd. Cousin Georgiana was sixty-five if she
were a day and her little anxious face was as closely covered with fine
wrinkles as if she had been a hundred. But still——
“My dear,” said Cousin Georgiana, “Edward Beck wants to marry _you_.”
Valancy stared at Cousin Georgiana for a moment. Then she wanted to go
off into a peal of laughter. But she only said:
“Me?”
“Yes, you. He fell in love with you at the funeral. And he came to
consult me about it. I was such a friend of his first wife, you know.
He is very much in earnest, Dossie. And it’s a wonderful chance for
you. He’s very well off—and you know—you—you——”
“Am not so young as I once was,” agreed Valancy. “‘To her that hath
shall be given.’ Do you really think I would make a good stepmother,
Cousin Georgiana?”
“I’m sure you would. You were always so fond of children.”
“But nine is such a family to start with,” objected Valancy gravely.
“The two oldest are grown up and the third almost. That leaves only six
that really count. And most of them are boys. So much easier to bring
up than girls. There’s an excellent book—‘Health Care of the Growing
Child’—Gladys has a copy, I think. It would be such a help to you. And
there are books about morals. You’d manage nicely. Of course I told Mr.
Beck that I thought you would—would——”
“Jump at him,” supplied Valancy.
“Oh, no, no, dear. I wouldn’t use such an indelicate expression. I told
him I thought you would consider his proposal favourably. And you will,
won’t you, dearie?”
“There’s only one obstacle,” said Valancy dreamily. “You see, I’m
married already.”
“Married!” Cousin Georgiana stopped stock-still and stared at Valancy.
“Married!”
“Yes. I was married to Barney Snaith last Tuesday evening in Port
Lawrence.”
There was a convenient gate-post hard by. Cousin Georgiana took firm
hold of it.
“Doss, dear—I’m an old woman—are you trying to make fun of me?”
“Not at all. I’m only telling you the truth. For heaven’s sake, Cousin
Georgiana,”—Valancy was alarmed by certain symptoms—“don’t go crying