A Mixed Proposal

"Well, you may have it," she said, brightly.

Before Miss Philpotts could lay down her work, before Mr. Halibut could interpose, the Major took possession of Mrs. Riddel's small white hand and raised it gallantly to his lips. Mrs. Riddel, with a faint scream which was a perfect revelation to the companion, snatched her hand away. "I meant my hand of cards," she said, breathlessly.

"Really, Brill, really," said Halibut, stepping forward fussily.

"Oh!" said the Major, blankly; "cards!"

"That's what I meant, of course," said Mrs. Riddel, recovering herself with a laugh. "I had no idea still—if you prefer–" The Major took her hand again, and Miss Philpotts set Mr. Halibut an example—which he did not follow—by gazing meditatively out of the window. Finally she gathered up her work and quitted the room. Mrs. Riddel smiled over at Mr. Halibut and nodded toward the Major.

"Don't you think Major Brill is somewhat hasty in his conclusions?" she inquired, softly.

"I'll tell Major Brill what I think of him when I get him alone," said the injured gentleman, sourly.