“Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. Why, is the question I would like answered. From the first there had always been between her and her listeners that electrical sympathy which only a certain order of genius seems able to create. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. “We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr.
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