It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. London Bridge had suffered a degree less than most places. Withdrawing another bolt, and unhooking a chain suspended from the top of the casement, Jonathan pushed the iron framework outwards. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. And at the thought of that other lover—he was convinced that that beloved person was a lover, and she found herself unable to say a word to explain to him that this other person, the person she loved, did not even know of her love—Ramage grew angry and savage once more, and returned suddenly to gibe and insult. “Hullo!” Courtlaw, haggard, his deep-set eyes more brilliant than ever, took Anna’s hand into his, and breathed a little close drawn sigh of content. I saw him first a few months ago at Mrs. I think I know where I am puzzling you now——” “Then for Heaven’s sake be merciful,” he exclaimed. ’ All at once Mrs Sindlesham looked across at him, a sharp question in her eyes.
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