A day will come when you will thank me. . She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. She almost laughed, but repressed her smile lest it seem cruel. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. Do you know anything of his friends? Is there any one for whom we ought to send?” “I know very little of him beyond his name,” Anna answered. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage. Winifred instantly picked it up.
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