The butler told me they did not speak six words during the whole time of dinner." "Both in the sulks," said Mr.Parmalee.

"Well, it's natural.

He's dying to know, and she'll be torn to pieces afore she breathes a word.
She's that sort.

But this shyin' and holding off won't do with me.
I'm getting tired of waiting, and--and so's another party up to London.
Tell her so, Sybilla, with G.W.

P.'s compliments, and say that I give her just two more days, and if she doesn't come to book before the end of that time, I'll sell her secret to the highest bidder." "Yes!" Sybilla said, breathlessly; "and now for that secret, George!" "You won't tell ?" cried Mr.Parmalee, a little alarmed at this precipitation.