, like to forget all about it—even their names. “But, my dear,” she began, “it is Impossible! It is quite out of the Question. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour. Sheppard did not make her appearance quite so soon as he expected, the carpenter became a little fidgetty, and, having succeeded in tranquillizing the child, he thought proper to walk so far down the entry as would enable him to reconnoitre the upper windows of the house. " "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly.
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