The chance had gone. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. It would be swindling. "Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him.
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