She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. “You are magnificent,” she said, “but the steel of your truth is a little oversharpened. ” Sir John frowned. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again.
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