And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. Cathy chimed. "Bravo," cried Sheppard, examining its contents, which proved to be a file, a chisel, two or three gimblets, and a piercer. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. " "You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs. I wonder,” he added, after a moment’s pause, “whether you ever realize how young you are. What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!” They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation. " "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence. She wanted him so badly it hurt. You heard her. "Pretty company for an apprentice to keep!—pretty houses for an apprentice to frequent! Why, the rascal you mention is a notorious house-breaker. But it sounds too real to be imagined. Suddenly Anna felt her hand seized and imprisoned in Courtlaw’s burning fingers.
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