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"Georgie"
are, you look worried. What is it, Martin?"
"I was thinking of Georgie," said I slowly.
She blushed.
"Oh, Martin—not—"
"No," I replied firmly. "I am not jealous of him, or of any one else. Don't you think it. But Georgie's engagement is on my mind."
Her happy face clouded.
"Why? Is it—is it because you aren't fond of Anne?"
It seemed to me that this was a mild way of putting it, but nevertheless I gazed at her with deep reproach.
"Anne is your sister," said I, "and it is impossible for me to speak as freely as I could wish;but the fact remains that Georgie is unhappy."
She looked distressed.
"Oh—I am so sorry, Martin! Is it because of—?"
"Of you?" said I, again with firmness. "No, he is not fretting for you—why,
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