“What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. Pity he's ta'en to bad ways so airly. And I want you for myself—for my wife. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. " "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. —Though if my name should become as famous as theirs, it wouldn't much matter.
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