He swore in his heart that the woman never lived who was so witty, so wise, so beautiful, and so good.

"Come raght with me this minute, if the cyoast's clea'." She went to the door of the diningroom and looked in across its gloom to the little gallery where her father sat beside a lamp reading his evening paper; Mrs.Leighton could be heard in colloquy with the cook below, and Alma had gone to her room.

She beckoned Fulkerson with the hand outstretched behind her, and said, "Go and ask him." "Alone!" he palpitated.
"Oh, what a cyowahd!" she cried, and went with him.

"Ah suppose you'll want me to tell him aboat it." "Well, I wish you'd begin, Miss Woodburn," he said.

"The fact is, you know, I've been over it so much I'm kind of sick of the thing." Miss Woodburn advanced and put her hand on her father's shoulder.