” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. I was—I was a corespondent. ‘It did not seem to me that it was so. For a long time he remained standing before the fire, staring at the situation. " "A clever device," replied Jonathan; "but it won't serve your turn. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. Better check on Remenham House, I suppose. " "So I perceive," said Ruth, withdrawing her hands. "Who's there?" cried Rachel.
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