She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. The latter has, since, been induced to unite herself to Sir Cecil, on terms originating with her brother, and which, however strange and unprecedented, were acquiesced in by the suitor. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. Earles glanced at it, and his eyes flashed with anger. “About my sister,” she repeated slowly. Earles recovered his spirits.
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