” There came a silence again. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. “But your sister,” he said. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. “He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. To-morrow they will know the truth.
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