Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. . And I’ll have that story off you as we journey back to town. It doesn’t matter with me, but there are at least a dozen young women in Mr. "Aha!" exclaimed Jack, with a roguish wink, "I've caught you,—have I?" The carpenter's daughter was fair and free— Fair, and fickle, and false, was she! She slighted the journeyman, (meaning me!) And smiled on a gallant of high degree. It was at lunch when McClintock announced that in the mailpouch he had found a letter addressed to Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. . He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. .
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