There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. It was easy for him to see that she desired to be agreeable to him. The idea of leaving for Mexico had become unbearable, as he was so easy to like and perhaps even easier to love. A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. ” “Don’t be shy, Lucy. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. To—to find myself. There was one letter. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant.
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