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POMONA'S NOVEL.
It was in the latter part of August of that year that it became necessary for some one in the office in which I was engaged to go to St.
Louis to attend to important business.

Everything seemed to point to me as the fit person, for I understood the particular business better than any one else.

I felt that I ought to go, but I did not altogether like to do it.

I went home, and Euphemia and I talked over the matter far into the regulation sleeping-hours.
There were very good reasons why we should go (for, of course, I would not think of taking such a journey without Euphemia).