All of which proves that the doctor also had his moments of distraction, with this difference: he was not distracted from his subject matter. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. “I believe that you are right,” he said softly. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. "I shall do no such thing. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around.
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