There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. Compared with her father and Mr. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. The forgiveness and reconciliation was a cold and formal affair, and afterwards her father went off gloomily to his study, and Mr. The one problem was that it didn’t fly. Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. "You read it, Ruth. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. ” “Why?” Mr.
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