” “Do you think that it was wise of you, or kind to come?” she asked quietly. She tried to be casual. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. She was my first love. I die happy—quite happy in beholding you. But he wrote on. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. " "But wasn't I right? That pair?" "I'll take the boy; he'll be a novelty.
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