“I will make it possible,” he cried. The ladies were, as usual, very gaily dressed; and as usual, also, had resorted to art to heighten their attractions— From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces, And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces. Those awful chairs!" After dinner the spinsters proceeded to inscribe their accustomed quota of postcards, and Ruth was left to herself. "Enough," said the widow, gratefully. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. " "Blueskin, clear the room," cried the Master; "these gentlemen would be private.
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