Nimick's felicitations were always couched in the conditional,
with a side-glance at dark contingencies, and the Governor, smiling
at the familiar construction, returned cheerfully: "I don't see why
any one should want to deprive you of that privilege."
"They couldn't--they couldn't--" Mrs. Nimick heroically affirmed.
"Well, I'm in the saddle for another two years at any rate, so you
had better put in all the rejoicing you can."
"Whatever happens--whatever happens!" cried Mrs. Nimick, melting on
his bosom.
"The only thing likely to happen at present is that you will miss
your train if I let you go on saying nice things to me much longer."
Mrs. Nimick at this dried her eyes, renewed her clutch on her
draperies, and stood glancing sentimentally about the room while her
brother rang for the carriage.
"I take away a lovely picture of you," she murmured. "It's wonderful
what you've made of this hideous house."
"Ah, not I, but Ella--there she _does_reign undisputed," he
acknowledged, following her glance about the library, which wore an
air of permanent habitation, of slowly formed intimacy with its
inmates, in marked contrast to the gaudy impersonality of the usual
executive apartment.
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