"With so much pity and so many walks, Mr. Parker, why don't you take
a few of them!" she said.
("Good Lord!" said I. "This is the worst act of rebellion yet. She
seems beside herself."
"Read on!" said Harley, in sepulchral tones.)
This was Parker's opportunity. "I am not fond of walking, Miss
Andrews," he said; and then he added, quickly, "that is, alone--I
don't like anything alone. Living alone, like walking alone, is--"
"Let's go walking," said Marguerite, shortly, as she rose up from her
chair. "I'll be down in two minutes. I only need to put my hat on."
Parker acquiesced, and Miss Andrews walked majestically out of the
parlor and went up-stairs.
"Confound it!" muttered Parker, as she left him. "A minute more, and
I'd have known my fate."
("You see," said Harley, "I'd made up my mind that that proposal
should take place in that chapter, and I thought I'd worked right up
to it, in spite of all Miss Andrews's disagreeable remarks when, pop-
-off she goes to put on her hat."
"Oh--as for that--that's all right," said I.
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