"One moment later! It is an escape to be for ever thankful for--poor little fellow!--but, Ethel, Ethel, do let it be a warning to you." "Oh, I hope--I'll try--" sobbed Ethel.
"You have said you would try before." "I know I have," said Ethel, choked.

"If I could but--" "Poor child," said Dr.May sadly; then looking earnestly at her, "Ethel, my dear, I am afraid of its being with you as--as it has been with me;" he spoke very low, and drew her close to him.

"I grew up, thinking my inbred heedlessness a sort of grace, so to say, rather manly--the reverse of finikin.

I was spoiled as a boy, and my Maggie carried on the spoiling, by never letting me feel its effects.

By the time I had sense enough to regret this as a fault, I had grown too old for changing of ingrain, long-nurtured habits--perhaps I never wished it really.