Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. But it don't much matter—though he's a devilish shrewd fellow, and might have helped me out of a difficulty, had any occurred. He walked her home. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers. So many distresses— so many joys coming at the same time are too much for me. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Mr.
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