She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. "Bah!" cried Jack, contemptuously; "nobody's disgraced and ruined unless he's found out. But this was not a season in which to be needlessly scrupulous.
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