“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. "If you doubt my word, woman," replied the carpenter's wife, coldly, "ask Mr. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. . The boy would never know just how lucky he was. Let her have her own way in all things, for she will always be just. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel.
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