"Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. " "Thank'ee, Sir," grinned Sheppard. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. I will be very well without him. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. ’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly.
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