I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. I will take her back. Observing Spurlock's spellbound attitude, he clapped the boy on the shoulder. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. ’ She fairly pushed at Gerald, who grinned and gave in, moving back to the still open door.
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