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’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. "This tongue looks remarkably nice," he added, slicing off an immense wedge, "excuse me—ho! ho!" "You make yourself at home, I perceive," observed Kneebone, with a look of ineffable disgust. “Hola Marteen!” She exclaimed cheerfully. . I am certainly no ghost. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands. “Mr. Nothing like the direct approach, she thought. " CHAPTER IX.

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