The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. ‘Yes, miss. ” He panted. . He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. There was a recurrence of fever, but nothing alarming. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow.
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