In a few minutes, an appalling change was perceptible. You've a good deal to go through to-night. . "Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must say," observed Jonathan, sarcastically. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant. ‘C’est ridicule. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. A deadlock. Spurling has induced him to sit down again. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.
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