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 was a promise, which I am not prepared to grant you—was made during a moment of mental aberration, and would not hold in law."

"Indeed? And will you please tell me what you are doing with those things and that ridiculous garb?"

"Ridiculous!" cried Miles, in hurt tones. "Why, I rather fancied myself in these garments! To be sure, the cap was bought for a much larger head and the coat doesn't fit as well as it might across the chest; but ridiculous? You have wounded me sorely, Miss Lynde!"

"They belong to Mr. Brough?"

"They do; likewise the easel, the paint-box, the canvas, the stool, and—and the brushes. The mahl-stick is my own. I cut it from a willow tree on the way hither. Would you like to see it?"