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"I'll g-give him cream every m-morning and n-night," sobbed Felicity, "but I'll never be able to look at him without crying. He'll make me think of you." "Well, I'm not going right away," said the Story Girl, more cheerfully. "Not till the last of October. So we have over a month yet to have a good time in. Let's all just determine to make it a splendid month for the last.
"I-I want yer t-t-ter love me." "No comprende, señor." "O-oh, yes yer do. L-Lord! didn't I t-tell it all ter yer s-s-straight 'nough last n-night? Maybe I ain't m-much on ther t-talk, but I r-reckon I sh-sh-shot that all right. C-can't yer make over th-that like inter l-love somehow?"
Barbara's face grew suddenly grave; and, in a whisper, she supplied the date. "Well, his sister dined with me last n-night " Eric stopped as he caught himself stammering, but Barbara laid her hand imploringly on his arm. "Go on!" she cried. "I can stand it!" "They don't know whether he's alive or dead."
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