John knew better. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. Courtlaw,” she remarked. ” “You are jealous,” she declared contemptuously. “I am sure,” she said, “that you mean to stay until you are turned out. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. Very soon she would be able to forget it.
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