. I could not love you else. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. Who's the lucky boy, Lucy?\" Lucy looked at her slippered feet. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. " "Did you discover any trace of footsteps?" inquired Jack eagerly. His eyes closed. Here one might live the life of golden days. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. When she awoke, the sun was high in Heaven.
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