ble nature of your own action. It must have been instinctive," he said gravely; then he added in his most impressive tone: "But remember, Pollyooly, that a woman's chief armor is her scream never forget that."
"No, sir," said Pollyooly, properly impressed.
"A woman's chief weapon of offense is her tears—and deucedly offensive they are. Her chief armor is her scream. Bear that in mind always; and the world will hold no terrors for you," he said again impressively.
"Yes, sir," said Pollyooly.
The Honorable John Ruffin returned to his bacon with the profound air of satisfaction of a sage who has just conferred upon the world a boon of priceless wisdom.
Pollyooly carried an armful of scattered garments into his bedroom, pondering his words of wisdom with extreme gravity.
The next morning there came to Mr. Gedge-Tomkins her check for twenty pounds from Mr. Montague Fitzgerald.
When she brought in his breakfast he took the check out of its envelope and regarded her som-
