"A sail?" said McClintock. ” She glared at him balefully. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. “Dinner is served, ma’am,” he announced to Mrs. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. I tried to get across the terrace and onto the bridge to introduce myself, but the crowds did not part and I lost you. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that.
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