OCR Text |
Show Maid Had Helped. Young Van Windle waited nervously nervous-ly in the parlor for Julia to appear. He had been sitting there, twiddling his thumbs, for half an hour. Finally a step was heard in the hall and he rose to his feet expectantly. But it was not Julia. It was her maid. "Marie," said the impatient young man, "what keeps your mistress so long? Is she making up her mind whether she'll see me or not?" "No, sir," answered the maid with a wise smirk.' "It isn't her mind she's making up." |