OR, CLARENCE MORTIMER. 103

 

‘¢ Thank you, I must be going home to
dinner, said Clare, making an effort to draw
his arm away from Dick, who had taken
- possession of it as before. :

oN onsense, Clare,” said Dick, in a
whisper. ‘* Your mother must have been to
dinner long ago. Everything will be spoiled
by this time, even if she has saved anything
for you, and you must be hungry.”

Clare was just about to persist in his
intention, when a large church clock on the
opposite corner. peeled out the hour of
66 five.” | | :
«Can it be ao ia?” he said, starting.

‘s What will my mother say to me?”

Time passes very quickly when one is in
lively : company, and often we are scarcely
aware of its flight when we are really enjoy- |

ing ourselves.