She is the wife now of another man. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. " "So I've found out the way to move her," thought the carpenter; "those tears will do her some good, at all events. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. " And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper. . Pistols and pictures? Now it fair goes agin’ me nature to act rough with a lady, but you’ll come along of me at once. . Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. "What can it matter to you whether he returns or not, child," rejoined Mrs.
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