Burn your palette and your easel. " "I don't care for that," replied Jack. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. She loves you too well for that. Earles remarked genially. Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn.
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