‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely. " Mr. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. ‘You have rifled his papers. I wonder if I should have locked you up if I’d been your father. ” “A—marriage certificate!” Annabel gasped. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. There was something very wrong. It was less will than education. “Mr.
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