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"All I know," said I, "is that her family name is Raynor, my grandmother told me that, that she is absolutely, utterly, and even wickedly out of place in the House of Martha, and that I want her for my wife." "Very good," said my companion, with a smile. "Now I know what not to tell you. I am very fond of Sylvia. In fact, I believe I love her better than any other woman in the world"

"I thought her very handsome when I visited her at the House of Martha; but since I have seen her here, dressed in becoming clothes, I consider that she possesses phenomenal attractions." "And I hope," I remarked, "that she may be phenomenally good-natured, and give me some chances of seeing Sylvia Raynor."

"Will you tell me how this happened?" She listened with the greatest attention to my story. "It is wonderful," she said, when I had finished. "It seems like a tantalizing fate. But it is well you did not overtake Mrs. Raynor. It would have been of no good to you, and the interview would have greatly troubled her."

Comegys measure it, and heard her say that she meant to keep it." "Which she has done. For I saw her in the street, yesterday, with a beautiful new lawn, and her little Julia was with her, wearing one precisely like it." "How any woman can do so is more than I can understand." "So it is, Mrs. Raynor. Just to think of dressing your child up in a frock as good as stolen! Isn't it dreadful?"

No one could have guessed that beneath the brilliant manner there was a torrent of dark, angry passions and an agony of fear. It was pitiful to see how her eyes wandered toward the door. Hour after hour passed, and still Rex had not returned. The hum of girlish voices around her almost made her brain reel. Grace Alden and Miss Raynor were singing a duet at the piano.

Pettifer offered him, quietly talking the while about a clothing club he was going to establish in Paddiford, and the want of provident habits among the poor. Presently, however, Mrs. Raynor said she must go home for an hour, to see how her little maiden was going on, and Mrs. Pettifer left the room with her to take the opportunity of telling her what had happened to Dempster.

Pettifer had from the Paddiford Lending Library, and her interest was so arrested by that pathetic missionary story, that she readily acquiesced in both propositions, and Mrs. Raynor set out.

The Swiftwing ships out tonight, Bartol for Antares and beyond. It will be a couple of years before your Eight Colors can be made over into an Interstellar line and as Raynor One has said to me several times, he'll have to handle all those details, for you're not of age yet. "I've been thinking. Now that we Lhari must share space with your people, you'll need experienced men for your ships.

If you know Chicago, you know the building that housed the Raynor offices a great gray shaft, towering even above its giant neighbours, its head in the clouds, its face set toward the blue beauty of Lake Michigan. Until very recently those windows of his office had been a source of joy and inspiration to Jock McChesney. The green of Grant Park just below.

Then paused suddenly, and blushed. "Yes, I'm Roy, and I've had a hard time to find him. How is he?" "He's better. He was asleep just now. If you will come in I will call mother." "Rex has certainly fallen into good hands," thought Roy when he was left alone. Mrs. Raynor came out in a moment and greeted Roy most cordially. "I'm glad you came," she said. "It will do your brother good to see you,"