But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently. It took my breath away. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. " "I am here in Canton," she replied, simply. Then most horribly she was clasped about the waist from behind and lifted from the ground. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical.
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