“Now she’s all hat and ideas,” he said, with an air of humor. “So Lucy, I hear that you are quite the violin player. "Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. "How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself.
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