Stop! I'll keep the cards.

You're just the sort of woman my father likes.

He'll be reconciled to me when he sees you, after we are married.

If one of those men ever asks him for a place, I'll take care, if it's years hence, to put an obstacle in his way! Here; take my pencil, and make a mark on the cards to remind me; the same mark I set against a horse in my book when I don't like him--a cross, inclosed in a circle." He produced his pocketbook.

His hands trembled with anger as he gave the pencil to Isabel and laid the book on the table.