Mrs. I’ve been on the watch for you. The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better.
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