" "You mustn't think of that, Mrs. " "There, now! You mustn't get mixed. CHAPTER IX. \" Michelle said in a bitter voice. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. Womanhood is sacred to me. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come.
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