I couldn’t sit down for a week!” “Oh, how terrible for you. It was among artistic people. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. ‘One thing at a time, missie. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream.
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