"Mrs. Corcoran Dunn and Mr. Malcolm," he said. "Will you see them, Miss
Caroline?"
The young lady's face lit up.
"Certainly, Edwards," she said. "Show them--Oh, Mrs. Dunn, I'm so glad
to see you! It was EVER so good of you to come. And Malcolm."
Mrs. M. Corcoran Dunn was tall and, in South Denboro, would have been
called "fleshy," in spite of her own and the dressmaker's efforts to
conceal the fact. She was elaborately gowned and furred, and something
about her creaked when she walked. She rushed into the room, at the
butler's heels, and, greeting Caroline with outstretched hands, kissed
her effusively on the cheek.
"My dear child," she cried, "how could I stay away? We have spoken of
you and Stephen SO often this morning. We know how lonely you must be,
and Malcolm and I decided we MUST run in on you after lunch. Didn't we,
Malcolm?"
Mr. Malcolm Corcoran Dunn, her son, was a blond young man, with a rather
indolent manner.
"Sure, Mater!" he said, calmly. "How d'ye do, Caroline? 'Lo, Steve!"
The quartette shook hands. Mrs. Dunn sank creakingly into a chair and
gazed about the room. Malcolm strolled to the window and looked out.
Stephen followed and stood beside him.
"My dear," said Mrs. Dunn, addressing Caroline, "how are you getting on?
How are your nerves? Is all the dreadful 'settling' over?"
"Very nearly, thank goodness.
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