"I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. Think—think of that engagement!” Their talk had come to eloquent silences that contradicted all he had to say. But Jack was too nimble for him. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. ” “Has my sister been unkind to you?” “The family,” he declared, “has not treated me with consideration.
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