Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. "Brother," cried Lady Trafford, her eye blazing with unnatural light, and her cheek suffused with a crimson stain: "Brother," she cried, lifting her thin fingers towards Heaven, "as God shall judge me, I was wedded to that murdered man!" "A lie!" ejaculated Sir Rowland, furiously; "a black, and damning lie!" "It is the truth," replied his sister, falling backwards upon the couch. I hear the splash in the water—I see the white object floating like a sea-bird on the tide—it will not sink!" "'Sblood!" exclaimed Jonathan, in a tone of ill-disguised contempt; "it won't do to indulge those fancies now. The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. She flushed with desire and happiness, her husband had returned to her and all would be aright. “I was already aware of the fact. There was a second co-respondent. “You love some one else?” he repeated. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door.
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