He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. " "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me. "Oh gracious! he's lost. He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. Besides, how am I to ride home without them?" "Don't distress yourself," returned Jack, "you shall walk. There was no response. .
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