She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. Because I’m younger than you. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. I am not comfortable,’ complained Madame Valade. . ‘Ah, non,’ exclaimed the husband. “Hello, Vee!” he said. E.
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