I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. "Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father," interposed Thames. Sir John hesitated. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. The doctor said you wrote. Do anything to please you, Vee. One of the sampans was hailed, and a ropeladder was lowered. He roused curiosities. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper.
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