He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined all the proffered courtesies. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. 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. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. "So the wheelman told you? I've always spoken it, though I can neither read nor write it.
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