Yet the thing hidden within her called and called. My first visit will be to you. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. Jackson smiled and put on the air of a man who knows more than he cares to tell. " "I am," replied Jack, without hesitation; for he felt assured from the man's manner that he might confide in him. Nobody could possibly find him now.
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