“My first love was all blundering,” said Capes. "I don't know," she answered vaguely. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. "My friend here," said McClintock, "tells me you are looking for a job. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. ‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely. There are, then, in this sorry world, people who can be disinterestedly kind!" The doctor laughed, gave Spurlock's shoulder a pat, and left the room. “I came directly I was disengaged,” Anna answered.
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