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“My dear man,” she exclaimed, “wasn’t that a foregone conclusion?” “You treat the matter lightly,” he continued. If she has no children, she goes on loving her husband; but he is no longer a man but a child. What CAN she put before that?” His voice began to rise. Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. “She’s proclaimed herself queen of the school. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. My sister was scarcely likely to make a mistake. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. " "Nonsense!" cried Wood; "while there's life there's hope.
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