He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. Stanley took mustard savagely. " "Oh! name it. "And the will?" he said, with forced calmness. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. She saw it, and checked without thinking. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp.
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