Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. A dreamy sense of content crept over him. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning. ‘Jacques!’ He stopped, but he did not turn. Yet I shall think of you to-day. “Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. Small, but eminently serviceable. I never even burrowed down into the trunk. But it is not entirely without hope, for perhaps they may find some succour with Charvill. “One moment, if you please!” She stopped short and looked round. I wanted the magic of love. She drew a long breath.
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