She stepped into his arms. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. I am sure. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. “This place is very beautiful. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. 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.
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