question, "I believe I'd choose them to do it. Think of the little
pagans burning their car and repenting in sackcloth and ashes, not to
mention shooting the dogs and living upon penitential fare."

"Poor kids," Allison said, with a sigh.

"Tell me about 'em," pleaded Doctor Jack "Tell me everything you know
about 'em, especially Juliet."

"I don't know much," replied the other, "for I came back here only a few
months ago, and when I went abroad, they were merely enfants terribles
imperfectly controlled by a pair of doting parents."

However, he gladly told what he knew of the varied exploits of the
twins, and his eager listener absorbed every word. At length when
Allison could think of no more, and the afternoon shadows grew long,
they went in.

Consigning his patient to the care of the nurse, the Doctor went down
into the garden, to walk back and forth upon the long paths, gaze, open-
mouthed, down the road, and moon, like the veriest schoolboy, over
Juliet's blue eyes.

Her pagan simplicity, her frank boyishness, and her absolute
unconsciousness of self, appealed to him irresistibly. "The dear kid,"
he said to himself, fondly; "the blessed little kid! Wonder how old she
is!"

Then he remembered that Allison had told him the twins were almost
twenty-one, but Juliet seemed absurdly young for her years. "The world