She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. "Your father said so before you," replied Jonathan, malignantly; "and yet it has tarried thus long. It would be swindling. " And her faithful attendant, drowned in tears, withdrew, followed by the two assistants. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. "And now," said Thames, (for we must still preserve the name,) "you will no longer defer my happiness. ” Anna sat back in her cab, but found it remain stationary.
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