Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. "An American. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. On the way home he was still thoughtful. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. " "I do not doubt it," retorted Winifred, scornfully; "because I attach credit neither to one nor the other. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend.
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