There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. F. Kneebone invariably takes part with me, when any trifling misunderstanding arises between us. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a syllable to annoy you again. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. ” “Coffee! Bah!” The newcomer picked her way across the floor with daintily uplifted skirts, and subsided into a deck chair of stretched canvas. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head. "I am very wicked," she said.
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