"The moon--the moon, so silver and cold,

Her fickle temper has oft been told,

Now shady--now bright and sunny--

But of all the lunar things that change,

The one that shows most fickle and strange,

And takes the most eccentric range

Is the moon--so called--of honey."--Hood.

"My dear, will you kindly pour me a second cup of coffee? Not because

I really want it, you know, but entirely for the aesthetic pleasure of

seeing your pretty little hands pattering about the cups."

Lennox Sanderson, in a crimson velvet smoking jacket, was regarding

Anna with the most undisguised admiration from the other side of the

round table, that held their breakfast,--their first honeymoon

breakfast, as Anna supposed it to be.

"Anything to please my husband," she answered with a flitting blush.

"Your husband? Ah, say it again; it sounds awfully good from you."

"So you don't really care for any more coffee, but just want to see my

hands among the cups. How appreciative you are!" And there was a

mischievous twinkle in her eye as she began with great elaboration the

pantomimic representation of pouring a cup of coffee, adding sugar and

cream; and concluded by handing the empty cup to Sanderson. "It would

be such a pity to waste the coffee, Lennie, when you only wanted to see

my hands."

"If I am not going to have the coffee, I insist on both the hands," he

said, taking them and kissing them repeatedly.

"I suppose I'll have to give it to you on those terms," and she

proceeded to fill the cup in earnest this time.

"Let me see. How is it that you like it? One lump of sugar and quite

a bit of cream? And tea perfectly clear with nothing at all and toast

very crisp and dry. Dear me, how do women ever remember all their

husband's likes and dislikes? It's worse than learning a new

multiplication table over again," and the most adorable pucker

contracted her pretty brows.

"And yet, see how beautifully widows manage it, even taking the

thirty-third degree and here you are, complaining before you are

initiated, and kindly remember, Mrs. Lennox Sanderson, if I take but

one lump of sugar in my coffee, there are other ways of sweetening it."

Presumably he got it sweetened to his satisfaction, for the proprietor

of the "White Rose," who attended personally to the wants of "Mr. and

Mrs. Lennox" had to cough three times before he found it discreet to

enter and inquire if everything was satisfactory.




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