‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. ‘You make me talk, you make me talk. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. He eyed the young couple with the tragic history behind them, and could only suppose that familiarity had dulled their senses. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. ” He retorted smartly, looking at her with mischief. So the talk went on. Capes was rather a discovery. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. As usual the substantive sister—Prudence—did all the talking for the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow.
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