Somehow to-night—I don’t know. " "Shall we do so?" whispered Winifred to her father. I’ve told you that practically already. " "Stay!" said Mrs. “Go on!” she commanded. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud.
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