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"As you please, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan, with affected indifference; "but I'm not going to hunt the deer for another to eat the ven'son, depend on 't. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. She showered after she heard the door shut and the cars pull out of the driveway. Run along now; but return in half an hour. ” “Very sad—very sad indeed,” he remarked uneasily. Marvel held her handkerchief to her eyes, and appeared in great distress. Not so Gosse. Sir John felt and looked several years younger. Her soft brown eyes, inherited from Larry, warmed an already pretty face. "The devil!" ejaculated Jonathan. After a little further discourse the old man took his departure. He knew she had been weeping.
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