Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. . Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. "Stay!" interposed Jonathan. “I am just back from Paris. ” He paused for a time.
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