. ” He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly. “I am sick of it. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. ' Upon which the other answered, 'that he accepted his invitation with pleasure, and would make a point of waiting upon him,' Ha! ha! ha!" "Did he say so?" cried Shotbolt. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him.
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