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"Has he a taste for fiction?" I asked, with a depreciative smirk.

"We smuggled it through!" chanted the trio, ready to weep for virtuous joy. And then they clasped arms like the graces, about their aunt, and let her speak.

"Yes, General, if I don't have to save the horse."

I thought I did until I glanced at the superscription: Miss Coralie Rothvelt.

He laughed. "Oh!--a little strength, a little vanity,--pride--self-love--we have to use them all--as a good politician uses men."

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