He seemed to be thinking hard. ‘I doubt it. She addressed her letters, meditated on them for a time, and then took them out and posted them. ' Will that do?" "It will," replied Trenchard. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. " "I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. Fast asleep, he is. “By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. You promise me you’ll never grow old, you hear?” “I promise.
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