“I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. " "Not in the least," replied Shotbolt, creeping beneath the table; "there's my staff. In all her life no living thing had had to depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat.
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