"Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. “If ever you do and I can help you in any way, by advice or inquiry or recommendation—You see, I’m no believer in feminine incapacity, but I do perceive there is such a thing as feminine inexperience. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure.
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