this curious inter-sex elixir of life that you have induced me to seek
so blindly, for he responded to the dose immediately and the color came
back into his face as he answered me just as sensibly as he would
another man.

"The men who are surveying the new railroad from Cincinnati to the Gulf
have laid their experimental lines across the corner of Greenwood
Cemetery and they say it will have to run that way or go across the
river and parallel the lines of the other road. If they come on this
side of the river they will force the other road to come across, too,
and in that case we will get the shops. It just happens that such a line
will make necessary the removal of--of poor Henry's remains to another
lot. Sallie's is the only lot in the cemetery that is that high on the
bluff. Henry didn't like the situation when he bought it himself, and I
thought that, as there is another lot right next to her mother's for
sale, she would not--but, of course, I was brutal to mention it to her.
I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me, Sallie." And as he
spoke he extracted himself from me and walked over and laid his hand on
Sallie's head.

"It was such a shock to her--poor Henry," sobbed little Cousin Jasmine,
and the other two little sisters sniffed in chorus.

"To have railroad trains running by Greenwood at all will be disturbing
to the peace of the dead," snorted Mrs. Hargrove. "We need no railroad
in Glendale. We have never had one, and that is my last word--no!"

"Four miles to the railroad station across the river is just a pleasant
drive in good weather," said Cousin Martha, plaintively, as she cuddled
Sallie's sobs more comfortably down on her shoulder.