Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. I’m sorry. The atmosphere was 46 strained and deathly quiet at the dining room table. " "Take it back yourself," retorted Jack, sullenly. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. “There’s no one here except me.
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