"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. They thought that he was dead at first, and they took him to the hospital. One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. ” “But Hainault—assured—me—that the marriage was binding. “Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell.
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