"Like a hero," answered Austin. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. What is the supreme idea in the heart and mind of youth? To win fame and fortune: and particularly to enjoy them. I hold a warrant from Mr. "Well, I'm glad she's spared this.
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