There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. By the old regulations, the free use of strong liquors not being interdicted, a tap-house was kept in the Lodge, and also in a cellar on the Common Side,—under the superintendence of Mrs. Let us proceed with our tale. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. I don’t think you understand.
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