’ Martha looked up, belligerence in her tone. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. “Fancy stabbing a man for jealousy!” she thought. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Send for Mr. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. Sir John saw it, and was flattered. You only mean a secret for a little time?” “Just for a little time,” she said; “yes.
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