Mrs. When the doctor came in—he had just finished his breakfast—O'Higgins rose and presented his card. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did. She cried out with the pain of it. She evolved a dim image of herself cooped up in a house under the benevolent shadow of Mr. “I thought you were coming right across the Park. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. And when, at length, it was struck, he wanted energy to pursue his advantages. He stole his chance and thrust his hand towards hers. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence. She kissed him with a closed mouth, not as recklessly as she was tempted to do.
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