Myra Spafford.
HE REMEMBERED JUST HOW BUNCE LOOKED.
THE STATE HOUSE AT BOSTON.
HOWARD’S WAY.
(Character Studies.)
THEY were all in the library after dinner, and were all talking at once, as the Edwards family were inclined to be. “I don’t see why we always have so much more to say than other people seem to,” Lora Edwards had once remarked, setting them all into shouts of laughter. Howard was not talking; his head was bent low over a Latin dictionary. They were waiting for some of the family, because they always gathered at this hour in the library for evening prayers; but Howard, while he waited, saved the minutes, remembering the hard lesson of the morning, and the liability to be interrupted in his study hour.
The back parlor door was pushed open and Uncle Edward’s handsome form appeared. “Where is Ashman Square?” he inquired.