” “That will follow,” said Kitty Brett—“that will follow. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. I struck him across the face, jumped out and went back by train to Paris. Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her.
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