You must live for me. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. ‘Well, young man,’ he said, ‘we haven’t seen you lately,’ and something about ‘Bateson & Co. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. I have not found the secret way into the house, for instance. . "Mercy on us! Well, I thought their manners quite out o' the common. CHAPTER I.
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