“Well, hello there. " "That's well!" cried Jack. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. It might be upset. White, my landlady, believes his story. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. What a heat that news had wrought. That’s the wonder of it. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr.
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