of herself, "I really don't believe it is in earnest. Grandpapa says people who make their wills so openly commonly have a passion for making wills, and he has no doubt Mr. Romaine is merely doing this for some present object."
"Certainly," cried Farebrother, laughing still. "It's his own peculiar Romainesque way of giving Miss Maywood warning. Pray pardon me for hinting such a thing, but Miss Maywood herself has acted with such delicious candor about the whole matter that it's absurd to pretend ignorance. Now what a devilish revenge the old Mephistopheles took!"
Farebrother seemed so carried away by his enjoyment of Mr. Romaine's tactics in giving Miss Maywood the slip that Letty was quite offended with him for his lack of interest in her side of the case. But at last he condescended to be serious. It was a soft and lovely autumn afternoon, the red sun slanting upon the straggling woods, and making golden vistas through the trees. It was hushed and still. It had rained that day, and the air was filled with the aromatic odor of the dead, wet leaves. Farebrother had remained seated on the log to have his laugh out, but Letty had got up
