‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes. Wild, Captain?" remonstrated the other, in a deferential tone. The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. “The walk has given me an appetite, and I do not feel like waiting till five o’clock. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. Jeremiah Jackson, and Mr.
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