“—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. " "Did you discover any trace of footsteps?" inquired Jack eagerly. The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave. "I had a terrible dream last night. She did not try to approach him. Guns were impossible.
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