y;
Unhappiest under sunne!
The cause of thine unhappy daye,
By love was first begunne.

"'But wel-a-way! that nature wrought
Thee, Phillida, so faire:
For I may say that I have bought
Thy beauty al to deare.'"

"Cheer up, Harpalus!" Phyllis waved her hand through the half-open
doorway. "Faint heart never won fair lady!"

"He is too far gone," said John. "Besides, I, Corin, have nine-tenths of
the law on him.

"'O Cupide, graunt this my request,
And do not stoppe thine eares.'"

The song ceased while John tugged at his collar. When the button finally
slipped in, he muttered:--

"There is a musical line for you? 'And do not stoppe thine eares.' I
would rather have written that line than take Quebec.

"'O Cupide, graunt this my request,
And do not stoppe thine eares,
That she may feel within her breste
The paines of my dispaire.'"

John ended upon a mournful quaver.

"Phillida has pangs of a different sort, thank you," said Phyllis,
coming into the sitting-room. "Pangs of hunger. Good-morning, Genevieve.
Is breakfast served? Yes, indeed, it is a beautiful morning."

"Heartless creature!" said John. He was putting on his coat now.

"Good-morning, fair Genevieve. Wags the world well with you? M-m-m.
Doesn't the bacon smell good?"

"Poor Harpalus," said Phyllis, pouring tea. "I was very fond of
Harpalus."

John's eyes were mischievous.

"Why didn't you propose to _him_, then?" he asked, accenting the second
pronoun.

Phyllis threatened him with a buttered muffin.

"John Landless! I shall not speak to you again for--ten minutes."

It was the jolliest breakfast. Mrs. Farquharson's bacon was always
crisp; she could tell a strictly fresh egg as far as she could see it;
if you had tossed one of her muffins into the air it would have floated
out of the open window. "Tell her I said so," said John to little
Genevieve.

It is a pity we know so little of Genevieve. One has an uneasy sense of
having neglected her. Well--her young man loved her; and that is enough
for Genevieve.

John stuffed the manuscript into his greatcoat pocket.

"Oh, dear, if I could only wish myself invisible for an hour and go with
you to the publishers," said Phyllis. "It doesn't seem possible to wait
until afternoon to hear what they say."

John reflected.

"You were going to Saint Ruth's this morning, weren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I shall be there the whole