She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. She had nothing to say for herself. " "And Thames Darrell would do anything for you, Jack," replied a blithe voice. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically. " And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. I consented. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. " "What time is it?" inquired Jack. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No.
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