There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. Then came the shock of the knowledge that soon he would be going upon his way, that there would be no one to depend upon her; and all the old loneliness came smothering down upon her again. “This wonderful affection of yours for my sister, does it date from your first meeting with her in Paris?” He hesitated. She has never done a really ignoble thing that I know of— never. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.
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