“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. Taken altogether, his physiognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes, or Estevanillo Gonzalez might have sat:—faces that almost make one in love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and enjoyment. ’ ‘It will give me the greatest of pleasure,’ Gerald said at once, making an elegant leg. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace.
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