” “I am afraid,” she murmured, “that it would be difficult. Lucy? Come 177 on out. The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. “I love some one else. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. They crossed the Park to the westward, and then turned back and walked round the circle about the Royal Botanical Gardens and then southwardly toward Waterloo. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield.
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