"At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. ’ Her flesh crept. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known. At last he took up his thoughts again: “I wonder if, some day, one won’t need to rebel against customs and laws? If this discord will have gone? Some day, perhaps—who knows?—the old won’t coddle and hamper the young, and the young won’t need to fly in the faces of the old. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried.
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