” “It is all the world to me. A town called Foster. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. Mind you don't stir till supper's over. He had taken it back. It was the grand nursery of vice. " "Right," answered Ireton. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII. “Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. Perhaps the old fool was not as fanciful as they had thought.
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