This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude. I am grateful, indeed I am. But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. It was the expression of Miss Klegg’s face that put the idea into Ann Veronica’s head of showing Manning at the College one day, an idea which she didn’t for some reason or other carry out for a fortnight. My son went down after his death. She is not in the least like the descriptions of her.
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