Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them everywhere. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. Mr. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. “‘A SONG OF LADIES AND MY LADY “‘Saintly white and a lily is Mary, Margaret’s violets, sweet and shy; Green and dewy is Nellie-bud fairy, Forget-me-nots live in Gwendolen’s eye. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the ache in her heart. ‘He don’t mean you no harm. Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. The next moment he was by her side. He was vaguely uneasy; he knew not what about. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. Wood. But I can't submit to hear the wellearned reputation of my friend termed an 'infamous notoriety.
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