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"Look! isn't that a pretty boat?" cried out Genevieve. A white yacht was sailing slowly towards Penhouet. The philosopher got his glasses. "It is the Princess's flag," he exclaimed. "Yes, yes," agreed Albert, "it is the Belgian flag. Listen, there is the salute." Jean ran to the farm, calling back, "I will answer it. All right, M. Darbois?"

Will you trust your life and happiness with one who can offer you so little beside his love? You know my whole heart is yours." Whether Myrtle said anything in reply or not, whether she acted like Coleridge's Genevieve, that is, "fled to him and wept," or suffered her feelings to betray themselves in some less startling confession, we will leave untold.

"Fine.... Look, Genevieve," he said suddenly, "lend me that revolver for a few days. I'll tell you why I want it later." "Certainly. Be careful, because it's loaded," she said in an offhand manner, walking over to the piano with two volumes under each arm. Andrews closed the chest and followed her, suddenly bubbling with gaiety. He opened a volume haphazard.

"Betty is very generous," he said coldly. He wanted to hear his wife say that she had not thought him pompous; it was very hard to be thankful for a mere ethical rehabilitation. Part of his thought-out plan was that Geneviève must herself tell him of the Woman's Forum's investigation; it would not do for him to let her know he had heard of it through a political eavesdropper.

The G'ints have picked a bunch of shines this season. T. A. Junior's got a new sixty-power auto. Genevieve that yella-headed steno was married last month to Henry, the shipping clerk. My wife presented me with twin girls Monday. Well, thank you, Mrs. McChesney. I guess that'll help some." Emma McChesney swung down the hall and into the big, bright office. She paused at the head bookkeeper's desk.

The flag sank and rose three times, then the yacht headed straight for the little bay. Genevieve climbed on a high rock and clapped her hands. "It is he, oh! it is he." She turned radiantly back to the party in the grove. Her "It is he" made Albert smile. It was so charming, so sincere that they all shared the quality of her joy. It was indeed Maurice returning on the Princess's yacht.

Of course you won't believe it till she herself tells you." Blake looked about the room. Genevieve was close behind the stove. He shook his head and muttered despondently: "Till she tells me!" "Did you ever play puss-in-the-corner?" asked Dolores. "You witch!" exclaimed Lord James. To divert her attention, he drew her to him and slipped a ring on her slender finger. "Ha! Caught you napping!

"But, Dolores, where is papa?" "Coming coming, Viviekins," reassured her cousin, breaking short an animated conversation with the earl. "Don't worry, dear. He'll be along in a few minutes." Genevieve stepped forward beside Blake to peer at the crowd. Dolores took pity on Ashton, who had edged around, eager for an introduction to the titled stranger.

"From what they said, they talked all the time! I think Penny went to see them, and sort of sort of suggested this! I'm so sorry, George " George was sulphurously silent. "And Penny will make the most of it, you know!" Genevieve went on quickly and nervously. "If you should send them back, tonight, I know he'd tell Betty!

"Very well, my boy, I shall be entirely at your disposal for as long as you like, for I can guess...." And he looked at Genevieve. Maurice despaired of ever making him understand. Everyone greeted the philosopher with delight when he appeared in the ante-chamber where the guests were assembled before dinner. The Duke came to present his greetings to Mme.