That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. “If only Sir John were not Sir John I would ask you to come and have some supper. "How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. “I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. Neither your aunt nor I have any other thought but what is best for you.
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