in this evening was quite true," said
her husband, slowly. "And what I've just told you is as true as what
that lying old fortune-teller told you. You can please yourself what you
believe."

"I believe you, John," said his wife, humbly.

Mr. Boxer's countenance cleared and he drew her on to his knee.

"That's right," he said, cheerfully. "So long as you believe in me I
don't care what other people think. And before I'm much older I'll find
out how that old rascal got to know the names of the ships I was aboard.
Seems to me somebody's been talking."

BLUNDELL'S IMPROVEMENT

Venia Turnbull in a quiet, unobtrusive fashion was enjoying herself. The
cool living-room at Turnbull's farm was a delightful contrast to the hot
sunshine without, and the drowsy humming of bees floating in at the open
window was charged with hints of slumber to the middle-aged. From her
seat by the window she watched with amused interest the efforts of her
father--kept from his Sunday afternoon nap by the assiduous attentions of
her two admirers--to maintain his politeness.

"Father was so pleased to see you both come in," she said, softly; "it's
very dull for him here of an afternoon with only me."

[Illustration: "Father was so pleased to see you both come in," she said,
softly."]

"I can't imagine anybody being dull with only you," said Sergeant Dick
Daly, turning a bold brown eye upon her.

Mr. John Blundell scowled; this was the third time the sergeant had said
the thing that he would have liked to say if he had thought of it.

"I don't mind being dull," remarked Mr. Turnbull, casually.

Neither gentleman made any comment.

"I like it," pursued Mr. Turnbull, longingly; "always did, from a child."

The two young men looked at each other; then they looked at Venia; the
sergeant assumed an expression of careless ease, while John Blundell sat
his chair like a human limpet. Mr. Turnbull almost groaned as he
remembered his tenacity.

"The garden's looking very nice," he said, with a pathetic glance round.

"Beautiful," assented the sergeant. "I saw it yesterday."

"Some o' the roses on that big bush have opened a bit more since then,"
said the farmer.

Sergeant Daly expressed his gratification, and said that he was not
surprised. It was only ten days since he had arrived in the village on a
visit to a relative, but in that short space of time he had, to the great
discomfort of Mr. Blundell, made himself wonderfully