Alpha Book

That's a sample of how the wealthy grind the noses of the poor,
isn't it, Drina?"
The child slipped her hand from his, smiling uncertainly.
"You don't mean all that, do you?"
"Indeed I do, sweetheart."
"Are you not a soldier lieutenant any more, then?" she inquired,
horribly disappointed.
"Only a private in the workman's battalion, Drina."
"I don't care," retorted the child obstinately; "I like you just as
much."
"Have you really done it?" asked Selwyn as the first course was served.
"_I?_ No. _They?_ Yes. We'll probably lose the Philippines now," he
added gloomily; "but it's my thankless country's fault; you all had a
chance to make me dictator, you know. Miss Erroll, do you want a
second-hand sword? Of course there are great dents in it--"
"I'd rather have those celebrated boots," she replied demurely; and Mr.
Lansing groaned.
"How tall you're growing, Drina," remarked Selwyn.
"Probably the early spring weather," added Boots. "You're twelve, aren't
you?"
"Thirteen," said Drina gravely.


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