, with a laugh. "I
have finished it, but I have not read a word of the beginning. I only
looked at the end of it, to see how the story turned out. I always do
that, before I read a novel."

This remark much amused Lawrence. "Do you know," said he, "that I
would rather not read novels at all, than to read them in that way. I
must begin at the beginning, and go regularly through, as the author
wishes his readers to do."

"And perhaps, when you get to the end," said Miss Annie, "you'll find
that the wrong man got her, and then you'll wish you had not read the
story."

"As you appear to be satisfied with this novel," said Lawrence, "I
wish you would read it to me, and then I would feel that I was not
taking an uncourteous precedence of you."

"I'll read it to you," said she, "or, at least, as much as you want
me to, for I feel quite sure that after you get interested in it,
you will want to take it, yourself, and read straight on till it is
finished, instead of waiting for some one to come and give you a
chapter or two at a time. That would be the way with me, I know."

"I shall be delighted to have you read to me," said Lawrence. "When
can you begin?"

"Now," she said, "if you choose. But perhaps you wish to write."

"Not at this moment," said Lawrence, turning from the table.
"Unfortunately I have plenty of leisure. Where will you sit?" And he
reached out his hand for a chair.

"Oh, I don't want a chair," said Annie, taking her seat on the broad
door-step. "This is exactly what I like. I am devoted to sitting on
steps. Don't you think there is something dreadfully stiff about
always being perched up in a chair?"

"Yes," said Lawrence, "on some occasions."

And, forthwith, she began upon the first chapter; and having read
five lines of this, she went back and read the title page, suddenly
remembering that Mr Croft liked to begin a book at the very beginning.
Miss Annie had been accustomed to read to her father, and she read
aloud very well, and liked it. As she sat there, shaded by a great
locust tree, which had dropped so many yellow leaves upon the grass,
that, now and then, it could not help letting a little fleck of
sunshine come down upon her, sometimes gilding for a moment her
light-brown hair, sometimes touching the end of a crimson ribbon she
wore, and again resting for a brief space on the toe of a very small
boot just visible at the edge of her dress, Lawrence looked at her,
and said to himself: "Is