She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. F. Spurling attended him as his nurse, and, under her care, he speedily revived. Jonathan stepped behind a curtain.
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