In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. The next door neighbor's dog, chained outside, let out a single bark, but was silent as soon as she turned in that direction, instinctively afraid. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. “You permitted me then to call you my friend. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs.
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