She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. " "Well, Jack," said Jonathan, who had looked at him with surprise not unmixed with admiration, "you are a bold and clever fellow, I must allow. But no; she must step warily. " "Not in the least, Sir," replied Tom, in a drowsy tone, and with a look seeming to imply that he was too much accustomed to odd noises at night to heed them. Now, will you stand aside?" "I won't," answered Jack, obstinately. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival.
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