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"Yes; it was her that called last week," returns her amiable mother-in-law, laying an unmistakable stress upon the pronoun. "You are not dancing much?" "I didn't mean that, and I never hint," exclaims Mona, angrily; "and if you insist on the truth, if I must explain to you what I particularly desire to keep secret, you——" The birds, as though once more led by the balmy mildness of the day into the belief that summer has not yet forsaken them, are singing in the topmost branches of the trees, from which, with every passing breeze, the leaves fall lightly..