"Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know me. ” She laughed. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. Suppose her father turned her out of doors! She did not care, she meant to go. There were two of them. ‘I’ll make you an offer. She had very few clear memories before a particular day in the library, when they had finished one of her first reading lessons.
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