She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. God must love me, for he has guided me here. “It was fine and brave of you. ‘And nnever would you have f-found it. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. ” She laughed heartily, and became as suddenly grave.
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