I would have told him if Kate had not been there; but it was impossible, and I had to prevaricate.
This morning has brought no news; the suspense is horrible.

Heaven help Kate! I can write no more.
Your affectionate sister, Grace Danton [Lieutenant R.R.Stanford to Major Lauderdale.] Quebec, May 17.
Dear Lauderdale:--The deed is done, the game is up, the play is played out--Reginald Reinecourt Stanford is a married man.
You have read, when a guileless little chap in roundabouts, "The Children of the Abbey," and other tales of like kidney.

They were romantic and sentimental, weren't they?
Well, old fellow, not one of them was half so romantic or sentimental as this marriage of mine.

There were villains in them, too--Colonel Belgrave, and so forth--black-hearted monsters, without one redeeming trait.

I tell you, Lauderdale, none of these unmitigated rascals were half so bad as I am.