There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought. She could no longer wait. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. " "Wretches!" screamed the lady; "don't dare to breathe your vile insinuations against me! Oh! Mr. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. Martha was quite right.
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