A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. "O lud! what an exquisite box!" cried Edgeworth Bess. But come in, dear. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. He looked at her in some embarrassment. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. She was a clever girl, the best of her year in the High School, and she made a valiant fight for Somerville or Newnham but her father had met and argued with a Somerville girl at a friend’s dinner-table and he thought that sort of thing unsexed a woman. CHAPTER XVIII.
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