" Sir Rowland moved irresolutely towards the door, but recoiled before a sad spectacle. The militia offered little in the way of relief. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. Though he walked by the side of the governor, he seldom exchanged a word with him, but appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplations inspired by a broadbowled Dutch pipe. I saw it this morning in the Daily Journal—an advertisement, offering a reward—" "A reward!" echoed Jack. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my mother's dresses. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. An hour later the doctor arrived; and after a thorough examination, he looked doubtful. I hope she falls off the face of the planet. " CHAPTER V.
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