” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. She and John were able to see each other many times and spent long romantic winter afternoons together. But I expect him back every minute. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. The forgiveness and reconciliation was a cold and formal affair, and afterwards her father went off gloomily to his study, and Mr.
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