clever and discerning old lady. She was accustomed to her pupil's gaze straying harborward through the long bow-window of the school-room, but this sudden interest in the face of the tall mantel-clock was unusual, and she could not fathom it. So far as she had been able to observe, time meant very little to Jane.
Jane wondered why she had never paid attention to the clock before. It was a genial affair with a smiling golden countenance, and a ship under full sail was painted on the case. Captain Titcomb had brought it to his wife, and the ship was his own Honoria which he had caused to be painted upon it. The only trouble with the clock, Jane decided, was that it idled through the hours twice as slowly as most clocks. "Because of its age, I expect," thought Jane—not in the least deceiving herself about the real cause of its slowness, which was that Mark was to return on the 5:40 and it was now only noon. So the clock ticked, and Jane didn't study her geography, and Mrs. Titcomb withheld her reproof, for she knew that something out of the ordinary was troubling this strangest of her pupils.
But even centuries pass, if we wait long
