‘Would that your mistress were as trusting. “Either I want to shout,” said Mr. You understand. Them young prigs is all alike. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. Instinctively she imitated this action, chilled and a little frightened at the expression of terror that confronted her. She became aware that at regular intervals a light flashed upon her face and a bodiless eye regarded her, and this, as the night wore on, became a torment. You'll find the benefit of it by and by. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “don’t!” “Why not?” she asked, smiling. uh. ‘As for what to do, I wonder if young Charvill would be worth a visit. .
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