He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. You never can tell. “She must go her own way. ” “He mentioned the matter to me also,” Miss Pellissier remarked stiffly. "Well, how goes it?" he asked. He ignored her protests in order to pursue some impressive line of his own. But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. "Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears.
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