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Miss Elizabeth laughed, even Miss Betsey smiled, touched with a grim sense of humour as she regarded the lads. Their "fixings" were certainly different. Everything, from the tips of Clifton's shining boots to the crown of his shining hat, declared him to be a dandy.
A booby and a boor, but certainly not the slayer of his sister, unless I had been woefully mistaken in all that had taken place in that club-house previous to my entrance into it on that fatal night. As I caught Clifton's eye fixed upon me, I repeated though with more self-control, I hope: "Don't think of me. I'm not thinking of myself. You speak of evidence. What evidence? Give me details.
I seem now but beginning the journey of life; and to have found a companion, guide, and consoler like Frank Henley is surely no common felicity! May the fates grant my Louisa just such another! P.S. You do not think, Louisa, no I am sure you cannot think that all the ardour I felt for the recovery of a mind like Mr. Clifton's is lost. Far, far otherwise!
One minute the unpastored flock of Mathematics III A were leaning out the windows, sniffing in the lilac scents wafted over from Mrs. Clifton's yard; the next they were scurrying, tip-toe, flushed, laughing, jostling, breathless, out through the cloak-room, down the stairs, through the side-door, across the stretch of school-yard, toward a haven beyond Mrs. Clifton's lilac hedge.
It occurred to me that something had once been said of Clifton's connection with that topsy-turvy sodality popularly known as "The Transcendentalists." But this was many years ago; and the world always supposed that he had outgrown his early errors, and found, in the liberal theology of New England, a more genuine inspiration.
Ida saw a face that she knew. Forgetting her bonnet in her sudden joy, she ran down the stairs, into the street, and up to the carriage window. "O Jack!" she exclaimed; "have you come for me?" It was Mrs. Clifton's carriage, returning from Peg's lodgings. "Why, it's Ida!" exclaimed Jack, almost springing through the window of the carriage.
"Do you think I'd wear anything else?" asked Dick, loftily. "Will you allow me to look at the watch?" "Certainly," said Dick, drawing it from his pocket, and submitting it to Clifton's inspection. "It's a regular beauty," said the young man, enthusiastically. "Do you mind telling how much you paid for it?" "How much do you think?" "A hundred dollars?"
"Well!" thought Jack, as he re-entered the elegant carriage, and gave the proper direction to the coachman, "won't Uncle Abel be a little surprised when he sees me coming home in this style! Mrs. Clifton's a trump! Maybe that ain't exactly the word, but Ida's in luck anyhow." Meanwhile Peg was passing her time wearily enough in prison.
If, as I sometimes suspect, I have thrust from me the grandest opportunity ever offered to man, the loss through all eternity will be mine. In eight days I heard of the death of Herbert Vannelle. As the last words of his strange narration fell from Clifton's lips, he bowed his head and was greatly agitated.
Praise from the lips she loved best stirred her womanly heart as the applause of the public could never do. "Come, sit down, Electra, and tell me something of your life, since the death of your friend, Mr. Clifton." "Did you receive my last letter, giving an account of Mrs. Clifton's death?" "Yes; just as I stepped upon the platform of the cars it was handed to me.
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