“I opened my eyes, and she was bending over my bedside. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. \"I told you he likes you!\" She whispered hotly into Lucy's ear. Horrible memories of things seen beneath the microscope of the baser forms of life crawled across her mind and set her shuddering with imagined irritations. "Ja," answered Van; "at a minut's nodish. ***** October. .
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