The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. Her hair was washed for her also. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. And then all her restlessness was turned to joy. “Please have a seat. “I look older. I hung around Harvard a little when you were there. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment.
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