Really It Is Very Wholesome Exercise, This

She Stood By The Tea-table In A Light-coloured Muslin Gown, Which Had A Good Deal Of Pink About It. She Looked As If She Was Not Attending To The Conversation, But Solely Busy With The Tea-cups, Among Which Her Round Ivory Hands Moved With Pretty, Noiseless, Daintiness.

He Could Not Forget The Touch Of Her Arms Around His Neck, Impatiently Felt As It Had Been At The Time; But Now The Recollection Of Her Clinging Defence Of Him, Seemed To Thrill Him Through And Through,—to Melt Away Every Resolution, All Power Of Self-control, As If It Were Wax Before A Fire.

It Seemed As Though He Gave Way All At Once; He Was So Languid That He Could Not Control His Thoughts; They Would Wander To Her; They Would Bring Back The Scene,- Not Of His Repulse And Rejection The Day Before But The Looks, The Actions Of The Day Before That. He Went Along The Crowded Streets Mechanically, Winding In And Out Among The People, But Never Seeing Them, -almost Sick With Longing For That One Half-hour-that One Brief Space Of Time When She Clung To Him, And Her Heart Beat Against His-to Come Once Again.

When Oranges Came In, A Curious Proceeding Was Gone Through. Miss Jenkyns Did Not Like To Cut The Fruit, For, As She Observed, The Juice All Ran Out Nobody Knew Where, Sucking [only I Think She Used Some More Recondite Word] Was In Fact The Only Way Of Enjoying Oranges; But Then There Was The Unpleasant Association With A Ceremony Frequently Gone Through By Little Babies; And So, After Dessert, In Orange Season, Miss Jenkyns And Miss Matty Used To Rise Up, Possess Themselves Each Of An Orange In Silence, And Withdraw To The Privacy Of Their Own Rooms To Indulge In Sucking Oranges.

Your Husband This Morning! Mine Tonight! What Do You Take Him For?' 'a Man' Smiled Cynthia. 'and Therefore, If You Won't Let Me Call Him Changeable, I'll Coin A Word And Call Him Consolable.