The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. Do you know of what I speak?” “I do, I do!” She said. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. I’m making a mess of my life— unless you come in and take it. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study.
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