oung, and  speak from gallantry no. I say only rue. You mighing.

    You are a man, I ansrut from ladies. I may do nothing, I assure you.

    ates—perc— marry,  is something.

    ,  I  some parc so . . .

    I  until urned from me again, tention captured. ts stand and gently lift its cover. Look e, t is attaco all ?

    te bears rangely, to resemble a p em of briar at t. Mr Rivers tilts o study it, and nods. I let the cover close.

    Sometimes, I say, not looking up, I suppose suce must be pasted upon my oed, and noted and so  I am speaking coolly, still. You said, tood. e are not meant for common usage, my felloe from t unguarded eyes. t o he world—some rich and handsomely provided for, some shabby, some

    injured, some broken about t  t; for t ots—otors, I mean—cast out. I  it—

    No speak coolly. I aken by my oco take my uncles book very gently from its stand.

    Your o mine. ten of your time t? ont you sures t mark it as rare . . .?

    ly; and artled me,  like to be startled. I dont like to lose my place. But noo t I cannot account for. I discover at last t I  my o my breast. t I am breat t are all at once denser t seems bleeding into t, is pale as a leaf upon a swelling pool of darkness.

    I  s, for tlemen. But I suppose I range, for wrey gazes my way, smiling, e falls. Miss Lilly! akes my hand.

    Mr  is it?  t.

    Mr Rivers  nohe pages.

    t tlemen, curtseying at my uncle, a look of terror on  is not yet ten oclock.