“One bright, sunny evening, when the atmosphere was soft and invigorating,--I think it was about three weeks after Harry had started for California--I was strolling alone in Doctor Dodson’s flower garden, busily occupied in castle building. I did not like the state of affairs, and I wanted to steal away and be alone, so as to sum up things and see if I could make a sure guess as to the future. The painful situation in which Lottie was placed was a source of great uneasiness to me, and I began to think it was my duty to extricate her if possible. I had mentioned the subject to Mr. Rockland, and he promised to endeavor to persuade Lottie to cease her sojourn at the jail, for he agreed with me that the proof fixed Viola’s guilt beyond question. But when he mentioned the subject to Lottie she peremptorily refused to abandon Miss Bramlett, vowing that she was innocent, and that she never would forsake her. I had another interview with Dabbs and Tadpoddle, who had discovered a new batch of evidence that appeared to settle the question as to Viola’s guilt so completely that it was useless to make any further fight in her behalf. The truth is, I had lost all hopes at last, and the main question to be considered now was how to get Lottie away from the jail. I was well aware of the fact that I was treading on dangerous ground when I ventured to talk to her about Viola’s guilt. I took a seat on a low wooden bench in the arbor, and gave the rein to my thoughts. They strayed back to my boyhood days, when I was tramping along the road with Lottie by my side; then they dashed off to California and endeavored to interview Harry. My fancy next snatched up Lottie’s lovely image and placed it before me--then my heart grew light. I tried to fasten my thoughts on that dear image, but couldn’t do it; for in spite of me, they would wander off to unpleasant subjects. A dozen little birds gave me a serenade with their delightful melody, as they perched among the vines over the top of the arbor, and I tried to induce my mind to interview the sweet little songsters, but it refused. The fact was, my thoughts seemed bent on mischief, that is to say they appeared to be determined to make me miserable, because instead of dwelling on Lottie and the birds, they went off after Miss Tadpoddle and Miss Clattermouth and came lugging them back to my arbor.