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"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. ” “I had to,” she repeated. E. ’ ‘Which is exactly what started us off,’ Gerald said to his friend with a grin, as he gave up his injured hand to the other’s ministrations. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands.
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