While Dunscomb and Timms were thus employed, the younger members of the party very naturally sought modes of entertainment that were more in conformity with their tastes and years. John Wilmeter had been invited to be present at the consultation; but his old feelings were revived, and he found a pleasure in being with Anna that induced him to disregard the request. His sister and his friend were now betrothed, and they had glided off along one of the pretty paths of the Rattletrap woods, in a way that is so very common to persons in their situation. This left Jack alone with Anna. The latter was timid, shy even; while the former was thoughtful. Still, it was not easy to separate; and they, too, almost unconsciously to themselves, were soon walking in that pleasant wood, following one of its broadest and most frequented paths, however. John, naturally enough, imputed the thoughtfulness of his companion to the event of the morning; and he spoke kindly to her, and with a gentle delicacy on the subject, that more than once compelled the warm-hearted girl to struggle against her tears. After he had said enough on this topic, the young man followed the current of his own thoughts, and spoke of her he had left in the gaol of Biberry. “Her case is most extraordinary,” continued John, “and it has excited our liveliest sympathy. By ours, I mean the disinterested and intelligent; for the vulgar prejudice is strong against her. Sarah, or even yourself, Anna”—his companion looked more like herself, at this implied compliment, than she had done before that day—“could not seem less likely to be guilty of anything wrong, than this Miss Monson; yet she stands indicted, and is to be tried for murder and arson! To me, it seems monstrous to suspect such a person of crimes so heinous.” Anna remained silent half a minute; for she had sufficient good sense to know that appearances, unless connected with facts, ought to have no great weight in forming an opinion of guilt or innocence. As Jack evidently expected an answer, however, his companion made an effort to speak. “Does she say nothing of her friends, nor express a wish to have them informed of her situation?” Anna succeeded in asking. “Not a syllable. I could not speak to her on the subject, you know——” “Why not?” demanded Anna, quickly. “Why not?—You’ve no notion, Anna, of the kind of person this Miss Monson is. You cannot talk to _her_ as you would to an every-day sort of young lady; and, now she is in such distress, one is naturally more cautious about saying anything to add to her sorrow.” “Yes, I can understand _that_,” returned the generous-minded girl; “and I think you are very right to remember all this, on every occasion. Still, it is so natural for a female to lean on her friends, in every great emergency, I cannot but wonder that your client——”