‘Exactly like my father. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. . But, it can't be helped. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his teeth, and howling like a wild beast;—there a lover, with hands clasped together and eyes turned passionately upward. E. I just never had anything else fun to do. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. “I suppose you’re like the rest of them.
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