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"Yes, so called. He wa'n't a lieutenant then, he was a clerk, like you or me."

"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.

"No," he said, but Ned Ferry had lately restored to him, by proxy, some lost letters, with an invitation to come and see him.

I was in the sweetest consternation. With the end of her braid once more in my fingers I made her promise to keep the dark secret, and so recited them.

"Good-bye,--Dick."

I mumbled something about never wishing to tempt any one.

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