‘But a spy I am not. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. A shout was heard at a little distance, and, the next moment, a person rushed with breathless haste to the stair-head. “It was fine and brave of you. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips.
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