The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. " "He's coming!" cried Jack, stamping his foot, with vexation. " "I hope they are, Sir," answered Mrs. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. She reads novels—and history—and all sorts of things. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. ‘You don’t know the whole, child. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. ” “Why?” she asked. “John, of course I forgive you if it is what you need from me. " "There's some one in the garden at this moment," cried Jack; "I saw a face at the window. .
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