evening. The Whitefield children had been born at what their mother described as easy intervals. Hugh and Marjorie were in their late teens, Lionel fourteen, and the two youngest still young enough to be in the nursery. It was the afternoon of Christmas Day, and the young people were upstairs, planning a charade to be performed next evening. The Whitefield children had been born at what their mother described as easy intervals. Hugh and Marjorie were in their late teens, Lionel fourteen, and the two youngest still young enough to be in the nursery. "She is rather pretty, you know," went on the lady, still considering her niece. "Though I don't know that I admire any type so mixed. Her mother's hair and eyes, with her father's dark skin and eyelashes, make rather a curious effect. Pity she can't marry, poor girl, but I don't suppose that's likely." "She is rather pretty, you know," went on the lady, still considering her niece. "Though I don't know that I admire any type so mixed. Her mother's hair and eyes, with her father's dark skin and eyelashes, make rather a curious effect. Pity she can't marry, poor girl, but I don't suppose that's likely." "She might marry to-morrow if she liked, as I happen to know," burst out Aunt Maud, who could not bear to hear Ollie patronized. "She might marry to-morrow if she liked, as I happen to know," burst out Aunt Maud, who could not bear to hear Ollie patronized. "Indeed? Anybody worth having?" was the somewhat surprised rejoinder. "Indeed? Anybody worth having?" was the somewhat surprised rejoinder. "That depends on what you mean. In my opinion, not nearly good enough for her, but well enough off to marry and make her comfortable, and his family would welcome her with open arms." "That depends on what you mean. In my opinion, not nearly good enough for her, but well enough off to marry and make her comfortable, and his family would welcome her with open arms." "Bless me! Then why does she go fagging on at the bank like this? Doesn't the young man object?" "Bless me! Then why does she go fagging on at the bank like this? Doesn't the young man object?" "She hasn't given him the right to object," sighed Aunt Maud, "and I don't think she
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