Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. He wondered why she thought love made people happy, and began to talk of the smilax and pinks that adorned the table. “When they tap the roof,” she said, in a voice of authority, “you are to come out. Wood's famous 'prentice?" "What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise. She turned there and beckoned.
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