Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ” She played with her hair. Kent say to it?" "He thinks so highly of it, that he says if he had a daughter he would give her to the artist," answered Gay, a little maliciously. It was clear it must be to-morrow. ‘Would that your mistress were as trusting. She located her foster family. . She went to a writing-desk and made some memoranda on a sheet of note-paper, and then remembered that she had no address as yet to which letters could be sent. " "I don't know," said the doctor, dubiously. ‘I know just what he was doing. "To be sure I will, my child. My sister made me over, you know. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. It is not so.
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