neral Gilmore had taken of Charleston siege
still in the bookcase with the glass doors? Or have they vanished like
the child's footprint that I made for you when we were planting the--the
"plant," and I was going away?

Time has passed. _Grand_ nephews are as young and hopeful as nephews used
to be. _I_ have written innumerable miserable grovelling tales. I
dedicate this one to you; despairing at last of writing that masterpiece
which should have been worthy of you.

But tell me this: Is there still a little corner of your heart that I
may call mine? a corner into which no one else is allowed to
put--yes--to put _foot_? Oh, but I should be glad to know that!

G.M.

BEDFORD, February, 1913.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"Are you in love with me now?" he asked wistfully (Frontispiece).

She wished that she might die, or, infinitely better, that she had 4
never been born.

She had on her work-apron, but she was not working.

He praised, blamed, patronized, puffed his pipe, and dwelt with
superiority on topics which are best left alone.

She took some coins from her purse and dropped them into the tin cup.

The young man knelt at the door by which he had entered and began to
remove its ancient lock.

Harry, the workman, ... rose to his feet, and turned to Barbara with a
certain quiet eagerness.

But Barbara and Wilmot Allen, well used to even larger and more stately
rooms, chatted ... as two children.

She faced him, still scornful, but white now, and biting her lips.

In a few minutes Bubbles returned. "He's just sitting there with a hell
of a face on him," he said, "and she's working like a dynamo".

Dr. Ferris frowned. "I'm not trying to interfere," he said. "You're old
enough to know what's best for you".

"Some unknown person," said Barbara, "has formed the habit of sending me
flowers".

In the dim light she looked wonderfully young and beautiful.

He turned with one foot on the sidewalk, and one in the cab.... "Here I
wishes you salutations".

Wilmot Allen took her in to dinner, and looked much love at her, and
talked much nonsense.

He saw her with the vase of jonquils in her hand ... and his stout heart
failed him a little.

When Bubbles had trotted off, she dropped into her chair and cried.

The door opened, and Rose staggered into the room.

And in his soul the legless man was playing only for Barbara.

"'D afternoon, Mr. Lichtenstein," said Bubbles.

"I want me thumb bandaged".