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"What's that?" asked Griffin, whose quick ear had caught the last words. "Not appreciate it? Why, do you know that Eitel used to be butler for Patti in his youth? Fie, fie, my child; likewise, go to.",

"Why in the world didn't she say so before?" cried Griffin indignantly. "She had a chance to defend herself. We're not absolutely inhuman.",

And, furthermore, I didn't like that next hour much, just as a sample of life, for instance. Aunt Bettie had got her joining-together humour well started, and there, before my face, she made a present of every nice man in Hillsboro to that lovely, distinguished, strange girl who could have slipped through a bucket hoop if she had tried hard. I had to sit there, listen to the presentations, watch her drink two delicious cups of tea full of sugar and cream, and consume without fear three of Jane's puffy cakes, while I crumbled mine in secret and set half the cup of tea out of sight behind a fern pot.,

There is one exercise here on page twenty that I hate worst of all. You screw up your face tight until you look like a Christmas mask to get your neck muscles taut, and then wobble your head round like a new-born baby until it swims. I did that one twenty extra times and all the others in proportion to make up for those two hours in bed. Hereafter I'll get up at the time directed on page three, or maybe earlier. It frightens me to think that I've got only a few weeks more to turn from a cabbage-rose into a lily. I won't let myself even think "perfect flower" and "scarlet runner." If I do, I get warm and happy all over. I try when I get hungry to think of myself in that blue muslin dress.

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But Jaggard was far from the condition of connected thought or coherent words. He turned and tossed upon his poor bed with bright eyes, burning skin and babbling tongue. His head was swathed in bandages, and the housemaid who watched beside him had frequently to replace the clothes he tossed off in his violent movements. This nurse was a sickly, dark-eyed creature, who was strongly attached to Jaggard; and it was her love for him that made her proffer her services to look after him, and that chained her to his bedside. She reported to her master that Dr. Etwald had been in that morning, and was coming again in the afternoon, but that there was nothing to be done until the delirium had expended itself.,

"That may be," rejoined Etwald, taking a seat, "but I can not be sure. You see neither you nor I know anything of the poison which was in the handle of that African instrument. It--",

"No, no, no! I would rather die. I love Maurice.",

And its goodness was the wile,