And we've a pair of hearts that beat as one drum;
Our bonds, if anything, are even more
Tight than before.

Your independence caused a passing pain,
But now, I thank you, I am feeling better;
You'll never go upon your own again
Nor I will write another nasty letter;
Embrace me, then, for sign of love's renewal,
_Mon bijou_ (jewel).


O.S.

* * * * *

THE IDENTIFICATION OF HOBBS.

Old Hobbs, the gardener, has been in our family longer than I have.
Although we live within twenty miles of London only once has he made the
journey to the great city, for that one memorable day so nearly ended in
disaster that he always speaks of it with a shudder. Indeed, but for the
arrival of Mrs. Hobbs, belated, flustered and inquiring everywhere for her
man, he must assuredly have spent the night in a police-station.

This is how it all happened. Mrs. Hobbs was returning from a visit to
relations in Sussex, and her husband was to meet her in London, convoy her
across the city and bring her home. In order to avail himself of a cheap
fare Hobbs left by the 7.30 train, though his wife would not arrive till
four o'clock in the afternoon.