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I've got to know why. "I have no sympathy," replied Prudence, "with a man who deliberately fuddles himself with strong drink. “This is all madness,” she declared wearily. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. I wonder if I should have locked you up if I’d been your father. ‘Move, you. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. .
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