"Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. “Heaven knows!” said Mr. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp.
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