" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. "Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. ’ ‘You would speak of the house?’ ‘Many’s the time little Miss Mary would say her papa meant for her to have it, she having no brothers and sisters at all—when we played together I mean, she and me and Joan Pottiswick. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. ” “It certainly was,” she admitted. . ‘You are rude, and stupide, and altogether a person with whom I do not wish to speak. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. Three times she escaped. They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight.
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