“And yet in a very few weeks I shall have done with it all. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. "In case he should consent—" "He never will," interrupted Winifred. ‘Come,’ she called. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again.
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