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“I suppose some one makes a bit on the food,” she said. It's certain. I don't want her hurt. How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. This is a mere boy. ’ A question leapt into Everett’s head and he recalled the letter to the Abbess. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject.

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