"To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. " "Bless you! bless you!" cried Mrs. Mauled about!” She fell to rubbing her insulted lips savagely with the back of her hand. But somehow he could not bring any of these affairs to an orderly end.
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