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The Professional Aunt by Mary C.E. Wemyss
page 13 of 145 (08%)
disappointed Sara is --"

"Diana," I interrupted, "is it wise to begin Saraing at this time
of day?"

In reality the woolly rabbit was tugging at my heartstrings and
clamoring to be unpacked. After a hurried tea, which I was
obliged to have for the sake of Bindon's feelings, I went
upstairs, resolved to disinter at all costs, without delay, the
rabbit. I felt great anxiety lest in transit the machinery which
made the rabbit squeak in a way that surely no rabbit, mechanical
or otherwise, - particularly the otherwise, I hoped, - had ever
squeaked before, might be impaired; happily it was not.

Having carefully shut the door and silenced the attendant
housemaid, I took the precaution of burying the rabbit partially
under the eider-down quilt before testing the squeak, so that no
noise should reach the children. I am afraid I "mothered" the
squeak of that rabbit if I imagined it could reach anywhere so
far; it was in reality such a very small one. But such as it was,
it was perfect, in spite of the deadening effect of the quilt, and
I pictured Sara's dimples dimpling. How she would love it! The
treasure was carefully wrapped up again, and I tried hard to make
it look like anything rather than a rabbit, in case Sara should
try, by feeling it, to discover its nature.

Jane, the housemaid, said that no one could tell, no matter how
much they tried; if they tried all day, they wouldn't, that she
knew for sure; which was very consoling.

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