“I wondered. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. " "I am," replied Jack, without hesitation; for he felt assured from the man's manner that he might confide in him. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. " "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. What are you to do with a mad mother at a time when you need all your wits to take care of yourself?" "Don't concern yourself further about me," returned Jack. Please yourself. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. “Thank you. E. Here are all our harlequins and columbines of the spoken and written drama.
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