Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. The salt air was fresher than the stale air in the manor. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. Only a son’s another story. “I love some one else. I don’t want any laws or freedoms to protect me from a man like Mr.
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