” She shocked him by that. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. If she has no children, she goes on loving her husband; but he is no longer a man but a child. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily. I might have known it. The envelope might contain only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. ‘Poor Hilary.
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