Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Ramage, and might describe the affair to him, she cried “Oh!” with renewed vexation, and repeated some steps of her dance in a new and more ecstatic measure. How clever she was, to fool everybody so easily! Not yet had any one suspected the truth: that she was, in a certain worldly sense, only four weeks old, that her every act had been written down on paper beforehand, and that her success lay in rigidly observing the rules which she herself had drafted to govern her conduct. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. " "Hush!" replied Mrs. ’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. Before she knew what had happened, Gosse turned suddenly, and vaulted one of the pews into the gap behind.
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