THE WINDOWsaid enough, with his caustic saying that it wouldnot be fine to-morrow, this odious little man wentand rubbed it in all over again.‘ Perhaps it will be {ine to-morrow,” she said,smoothing his hair.

All she could do now was to admire the refrigerator, and turn the pages of the Stores listin the hope that she might come upon somethinglike a rake, or a mowing—machine, which, withits prongs and its handles, would need the greatestskill and care in cutting out. All these young menparodied her husband, she reflected; he said itwould rain; they said it would be a positive tornado.

But here, as she turned the page, suddenly hersearch for the picture of a rake or a mowingmachine was interrupted. The gruH` murmur,irregularly broken by the taking out of pipesand the putting in of pipes which had kept onassuring her, though she could not hear whatwas said (as she sat in the window), that themen were happily talking; this sound, whichhad lasted now half an hour and had taken itsplace soothingly in the scale of sounds pressingOn top of her, such as the tap of balls uponbats, the sharp, sudden bark now and then,°How’s that? How’s that? ” of the childrenplaying cricket, had ceased; so that the monoton0us fall of the waves on the beach, which for the

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