my first symphony!” Brown’s eyebrows rose skeptically. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. . The simile started a laugh in his throat. Presently McClintock came in. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. “But if you had?” she said. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused.
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