" CHAPTER XI. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington. Smith. "Or trying to be," answered the doctor. Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head, near which the boat containing the captive boy was moored. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief.
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