” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. But I can easily bring in a sing-song girl to play for you. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. “Arthur, this is Miss Pellissier—Mr.
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