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- 1305
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- 2026-01-30T20:48:52.918Z
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- 1260
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- Well, time went on; and Pierre loved Lucy, and Lucy, Pierre; till at
last the two young naval gentlemen, her brothers, happened to arrive in
Mrs. Tartan's drawing-room, from their first cruise--a three years' one
up the Mediterranean. They rather stared at Pierre, finding him on the
sofa, and Lucy not very remote.
"Pray, be seated, gentlemen," said Pierre. "Plenty of room."
"My darling brothers!" cried Lucy, embracing them.
"My darling brothers and sister!" cried Pierre, folding them together.
"Pray, hold off, sir," said the elder brother, who had served as a
passed midshipman for the last two weeks. The younger brother retreated
a little, and clapped his hand upon his dirk, saying, "Sir, we are from
the Mediterranean. Sir, permit me to say, this is decidedly improper!
Who may you be, sir?"
"I can't explain for joy," cried Pierre, hilariously embracing them all
again.
"Most extraordinary!" cried the elder brother, extricating his
shirt-collar from the embrace, and pulling it up vehemently.
"Draw!" cried the younger, intrepidly.
"Peace, foolish fellows," cried Lucy--"this is your old play-fellow,
Pierre Glendinning."
"Pierre? why, Pierre?" cried the lads--"a hug all round again! You've
grown a fathom!--who would have known you? But, then--Lucy? I say,
Lucy?--what business have you here in this--eh? eh?--hugging-match, I
should call it?"
"Oh! Lucy don't mean any thing," cried Pierre--"come, one more all
round."
So they all embraced again; and that evening it was publicly known that
Pierre was to wed with Lucy.
Whereupon, the young officers took it upon themselves to think--though
they by no means presumed to breathe it--that they had authoritatively,
though indirectly, accelerated a before ambiguous and highly
incommendable state of affairs between the now affianced lovers.
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