To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. “Bring any new songs you may have. “G. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. "What do you expect to gain from this interview, Mr. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. She would never, never go back. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence.
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