" "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. . ” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister. But whenever the storm grew dangerous, either McClintock or Spurlock broke into saving laughter. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. “Can’t it be altered? “I suppose an actress is free?.
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