The doings of Doris

by Agnes Giberne

"Yes—please." She scribbled the date and began—

"Dear Dick.'"

"It ought to be—'Dear Mr. Maurice.'"

"Ought it?" Doris seized a fresh sheet, wrote the words, and laughed— a heart-aching little laugh. "How horrid it looks!"

Mrs. Winton let that pass, and began to dictate—

"'Dear Mr. Maurice; I regret extremely having allowed you to indulge in hopes, during our short time together in Switzerland—'"

"It wasn't short, mother. It was a lifetime."

"You felt it so, perhaps. Only a few weeks, really."

Doris sighed. "Well—'in Switzerland'—what next?"

"As you are aware, I foresaw difficulties, and I was able only to give a conditional answer to your offer. That which I expected has come to pass. My parents are strongly opposed to anything of the kind. Their chief reason I need not specify. You will understand.'"