y eye, and smiled; till looked frightened.

    I s I, Sue?

    You s t moment, I believed it. I made  ero  I remembered t, of course, she never would.

    For, te—t so !—per rat knoe of a person in a story or a play.  and s-up, it made t over a pigs o t I lemans stolen fortune—it made t  not first I o myself, leman comes Ill do ts . But Id say it, t   t I  muc t  I suppose t  toget a time; and it o be kind to  too   and feel cruel.

    Of course, it  for o talk; but more often so be silent, and t  nigurning, turning of s—feel leman,  old  ser my old aunty, t o be , for  made me home-sick.

    And t  t Maud  ion. I only t t later, t time, I sater?

    Songue. I oot t cuts me.

    Let me see, I said.

    I took o tood h her face in my hands

    and let me feel about ed toot at

    once.

    ell, t is sharper— 1 began.

    ts tooth, Sue? she said.

    to say, miss, I ans to  out a to matche flying scissors.

    Maud stroked ten by a snake, Sue? she asked me.

    could you say? o t. Per ry living. I said I didnt. S me, t t ted tootil t aken off. I  many times, s.—Of course, infants rat. Maud stood very still, ed,  back,  first closed t me, .  lifted and sank, as s, from t tered, and s my eye.

    And, as sepped a ter on a tray. For Miss Maud, ssey. I looked at t once t it must be Gentlemans. My  gave a dip. So did Mauds, I think.

    Bring it ill red  rembling.

    I c to, as I moved about aking up books and custing aurn tter