I was in school at Farmington; she left school to marry--a mere child of eighteen, undeveloped for her age, thin, almost scrawny, with pipe-stem arms and neck, red hair, a very sweet, full-lipped mouth, and gray eyes that were too big for her face." "Well," said Gatewood with a short laugh, "what about it?
You don't think Kerns fell in love with an insect of that genus, do you ?" "Yes, I do," smiled Mrs.Gatewood.
"Nonsense.

Besides, what of it?
She's married, you say." "Her husband died of enteric at Ladysmith.

She wrote me.

She has never remarried.

Think of it, John--in all these years she has never remarried!" "Oh!" said Gatewood pityingly; "do you really suppose that Tommy Kerns has been nursing a blighted affection all these years without ever giving _me_ an inkling?
Besides, men don't do that; men don't curl up and blight.