"A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. The thought had not even occurred to him. But seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. Here again instinct guided her. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. ’ ‘You would speak of the house?’ ‘Many’s the time little Miss Mary would say her papa meant for her to have it, she having no brothers and sisters at all—when we played together I mean, she and me and Joan Pottiswick. The particulars of her engagement were very clear in her memory. Even Ah Cum had resumed his Oriental shell of reserve. "The part was crooked," she explained.
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