"Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. She wrote it down. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. No: I must face it out. I had a hard fight to begin with to win my way into the Upper Division—I was third on a list of fortyseven—and since then I have found myself promoted almost yearly in a widening sphere of social service. I'll tell you what.
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