The eyes, too, though large and bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken, as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and uncertain disposition. " "Didn't the natives have a name for you?" She blushed. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. . Wood, disdainfully. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. Naturally it all came out then. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. “Put her in the trunk. The Return 231 II. ” “But Italy—” “Italy’s for a good girl,” he said, and laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled.
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