"I never really felt quite certain that he was interested in her." "Certainly I am," answered Miss Deborah, sharply.

"I've always maintained they were made for each other." But Gifford Woodhouse's pleasant gray eyes, under straight brown brows, showed none of the despair of an unsuccessful lover; on the contrary, he whistled softly through his blonde moustache, as he came along the rectory lane, and then walked down the path to join the party in the garden.
The four people who had gathered at the foot of the lawn were very silent; Dr.Howe, whose cigar glowed and faded like a larger firefly than those which were beginning to spangle the darkness, was the only one ready to talk.

"Well," he said, knocking off his cigar ashes on the arm of his chair, "everything ready for to-morrow, girls?
Trunks packed and gowns trimmed?
We'll have to keep you, Helen, to see that the house is put in order after all this turmoil; don't you think so, Lois ?" Here the rector yawned secretly.
"You needn't worry about _order_, father," Lois said, lifting her head from her cousin's shoulder, her red lower lip pouting a little, "but I wish we could keep Helen." "Do you hear that, Mr.Ward ?" the rector said.

"Yes, we're all going to miss the child very much.

Gifford Woodhouse was saying to-day Ashurst would lose a great deal when she went.