"A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. The thing is, Miss Charvill —’ ‘He told you my name?’ cut in Melusine, surprised. But you are Annabel. He would provide the necessities of life and protect her. And yet, on the very site of the sordid tenements and squalid courts we have mentioned, where the felon openly made his dwelling, and the fraudulent debtor laughed the object of his knavery to scorn—on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and whose memory breathes of loyalty and valour. The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire.
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