” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. “I hope you’re satisfied. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. By and by she heard the screen door. Tell me I haven’t heard. "Utterly," reiterated Jack, gloomily,—"as regards all I hold dear. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact. " "Be it so," replied the knight, who saw the force of this reasoning. " "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly.
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