She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. She stood there limply and did not act to resist him. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own.
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