We can love on a snow cornice, we can love over a pail of whitewash. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. ” He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. When he tried the scullery door, and would have moved on, Hilary intervened. "If you mean to accompany us, you may need it. “Think of the mockery!” she said. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye.
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