“MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. “I too am asked. I must take you to the Suffrage people, and the Tolstoyans, and the Fabians. Move. "I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr. . ’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. More,’ he said, ‘but I’m told it’s the most amusing thing in London at the present time. " And muttering some remarks, which we do not care to repeat, reflecting upon the consistency of the sex, he was preparing once more to depart, when Mrs. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face. .
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