your sister's ear more than
once.--Here's two kisses. O O

"Poor Jemmy!" thought Jacqueline, gently, when she read this.

"Poor Jemmy," indeed. Possibly she had made some such discovery for
herself.

The time came when the author reluctantly admitted to himself that he
had no further excuse to trespass upon Mrs. Kildare's hospitality. From
the first he had been able to limp about the house, pale but courageous;
now he found it difficult even to limp with any conviction. At last
Farwell quite bluntly advised him that he would better be moving on.

"Your book is calling you, eh, what? If not, it ought to be. The old 'un
is looking rather firm, if you ask me. Polite, of course, even
cordial--it would not enter the creed of these people to be anything
else, so long as one is under their roof. But firm, nevertheless."

Channing started. "You don't think she's on?"

Farwell shrugged--a gesture carefully done from the model of Philip
Benoix. "How did you explain your accident up there?"

"Told her we happened to be prowling about the hillside, and ran upon a
moonshine still that didn't like us."

"Did you mention the hour of your innocent ramble?"

Charming flushed. "It _was_ an innocent ramble, you know.--I did not
mention the hour, however."

"What about Benoix? He and Mrs. Kildare are very thick."

Channing flushed again. The memory of his last conversation with the
clergyman rankled. "Benoix's not the talking sort," he muttered.
"Besides, he's still up in the mountains, arranging about a mission or
something."

Farwell looked at him thoughtfully. "Not the talking sort--you're right,
he's the acting sort. Typical Kentuckian and all that. His father's a
convicted 'killer,' by the way."

"Oh, shut up!" said the author, inelegantly. "What if I have made love
to Jacqueline? Does every girl who gets love made to her have to be led
forthwith to the altar? The notorious Mrs. Kildare would hardly be a
squeamish mama, I think. Why, she's got a common woman of the streets
here in the house as a sort of maid-companion to her young daughters!
What can you expect?"

"Nevertheless," demanded his friend, significantly, "how much have you
seen of the girl since you have been here? You know, and I know, that
the most squeamish of mamas are ladies who happen to be acquainted with
the ropes themselves. _Verbum sap._--Besides, there is your uncle. Might
he have--er--conversed too freely, perhaps?"

Channing stirred unea