And she found herself able to do nothing of the sort. "I don't think that's likely. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless.
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