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Ferrars had finished the newspaper, and was writing an unimportant note; his back was to the door, and hearing the rustle of his wife's dress, and knowing her step, he did not turn his head sufficiently to observe her countenance, but he said, good-humouredly, "At last! What have you been about? I thought we were to go out before luncheon to look at the bracelet I mentioned to you."

He once described the village streets as being paved chiefly with good intentions. Another time he characterised the minister of a rival church as having the courage of his wife's convictions. But such flashes of satire went and left no rancour behind them. His high spirits were proof against everything but automobiles.

But after that evening with her he changed. Just such simplicity had been his wife's. Sometimes Sara Lee reminded him of her the upraising of her eyes or an unstudied gesture. He sighed. "You are very wonderful, you Americans," he said. It was the nearest to a compliment that he had ever come. And after that evening he was always very gentle with her.

It lay like a spell for awhile, and like a spell it passed. Merryon moved at last, moved and looked down into his wife's eyes. They met his instantly without a hint of shrinking; they even smiled. "It must be nearly bedtime," she said. "You are not going to be busy to-night?" "Not to-night," he said. "Then don't let's sit up any longer, darling," she said.

You had better wait for the next batch and ask Dreyser to take you. I lost Walter today. He was ill when he came aboard a disease of the heart but he would not be persuaded. And last night he died. 'Was that him you have been burying? I asked. 'Even so. He was a good man and my wife's cousin, and now I have no engineer. Only a fool of a boy from Hamburg.

"Bless us!" ejaculated the old farmer, who had followed after the young woman who had asked at the door with such an eager interest for Thomas Ward "what does all this mean?" By this time Thomas had gained a full view of his wife's tearful but happy face. Then he hugged her to his bosom over and over again, much to the surprise and delight of the farmer's urchins, who happened to be in the room.

"Nicolas Anto, eh?" said he, "Who was his companero?" "Panfilo Sanchez." Ed started. "That's strange! They must have met accidentally." "So they both declared. Why did you let Panfilo go?" "We didn't need him here, and he was too good a man to lose, so " Ed found his wife's eyes fixed upon him, and dropped his own. "I knew you were short-handed at La Feria."

That mean dread of discovery, which I have already acknowledged, induced me to avail myself of my wife's help in nursing the man. When he began to talk of what had happened to him, I could trust Madame Fontaine to keep the secret. When he was well enough to get up, the poor harmless creature disappeared. He was probably terrified at the prospect of entering the laboratory again.

It is a special avowal of the wife's relations to her husband, and its natural as well as moral end is the establishment of the family on the basis of a healthy progeny. The wife-to-be, like her prospective husband, will be well advised to ask for a medical health certificate.

'It is one simple, simple question, said Victoire, 'and if M. Tudere will say that it is all right, I, for myself, will be satisfied. The amiable Victoire, to tell the truth, was still quite satisfied to leave his wife's income in Alaric's hands, and would not have been at all satisfied to remove it to the hands of his respected step-papa-in-law, or even his admired mamma-in-law.