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  tell that, George—that Mr. Bevans liked it? How could you know?"

"How did I know?" said George, who innocently supposed that his veracity was being impugned. "Why, by his expression, by his eyes. Do you think I don't know the world? And those letters, Elise, ordering you to write to him every day under the pretense of improving your handwriting. Oh, if I could only order you to write to me every month, how happy I should be! You're too innocent to understand, dear, but that man is in love with you—insanely, passionately in love with you."

Elise did not immediately answer this, for the simple reason that she couldn't, but she drew back a little to get a better look at George, and her eyes seemed to have increased to twice their usual size and brilliance. It was at this moment that Austin entered. Exactly what he had feared had happened.

"What's this?" he said. "Where's Miss Curtis?" And before any one had got round to answering him. Miss Curtis herself hurried into the room, talking.

"The funniest thing," she was saying. "Central kept on repeating, 'Number please, number please,' when it was they who specially told me—"