Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. 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. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. She was saying good-bye to childhood and home, and her making; she was going out into the great, multitudinous world; this time there would be no returning. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon.
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