“Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. Why, honestly enouch. Wood, leaping from the bed. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. " "Do not doubt me," replied Thames, warmly pressing his hand. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. You will not find it else. " "How did he take it?" "He did not seem to care. ” “And I,” Ennison said, holding her fingers tightly, and forcing her to look into his eyes, “I will tell you what I have wished for you when we meet six months from to-day.
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