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"No, no," she says; "all is different now, you know, and you should never have come here again at all; but"—with charming inconsequence—"why did you go away last evening without bidding me good-night?" Then it is enchanting to watch the petit soins, the delicate little attentions that the women in a carefully suppressed fashion lavish upon the bride-elect,—as she already is to them. There is nothing under heaven so dear to a woman's heart as a happy love-affair,—except, indeed, it be an unhappy one. Just get a woman to understand you have broken or are breaking (the last is the best) your heart about any one, and she will be your friend on the spot. It is so unutterably sweet to her to be a confidante in any secret where Dan Cupid holds first place. "Daisies pied, and violets blue,.

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"To Bantry," says Mona, growing white again,—"to-night! Oh, do you want to kill me and yourself?" "Is there? Then I shall certainly return for it," says Geoffrey, who is too much of a gentleman to pretend to understand all her words seem to imply. "It is really no journey from this to England." It is the first time since their marriage that she and Geoffrey have been parted, and it seems to her a hard thing that such partings should be. A sense of desolation creeps over her,—a sense of loneliness she has never known before. "When he held the pistol to your forehead, didn't you scream then?" asks Violet..