She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. “I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. ” “Your ideas of fairness—” he remarked, and discontinued that sentence. This is a mere boy. Don’t look so frightened. " "Do not talk thus, dear mother," returned Jack, gazing anxiously at her pale countenance, "or I shall not be able to quit you.
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