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. He looked distant, irritated. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. “We have to be— modern. ” “It is odd that this man at the hospital should call himself Meysey Hill,” she remarked. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. ’ Gerald eyed her with interest. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. “I have been training myself to look askance at beautiful things. Still, I am curious.
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