MANNING,—I find it very difficult to answer your letter. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. This man has an evil reputation. But she perceived that to tell Manning of her Ramage adventures as they had happened would be like tarring figures upon a water-color. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. “Oh yes,” said Miss Klegg; “I thought every one knew. He caught the elderly dame’s eye, throwing her a desperate message. They got to go home and eat Campbell’s Chicken Soup. Most of the boys did not possess the manners that he did. If so I shall have to leave. To Capes he was almost deferential, and she had never seen him deferential in the old time, never. Drink the toast, Jack.
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