Mr. But I've an idea as well as you, grounded in some measure upon Sheppard's story. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. "Your sympathy is being wasted. The latter gentleman did full justice to the good things before him; but he drank sparingly, and was visibly annoyed by his companion's intemperance. He recognized the handwriting, and turned a shade paler. “I promise, Lucy. ‘Sapristi. To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock.
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