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On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. "Get up, mother," cried Jack; "do not kneel to him. That is I saw her. ” Anna read, and her cheeks grew slowly scarlet. ’ ‘I do not care any more about the portrait,’ Melusine said, opening the door to the attic corridor that gave off onto the row of little rooms that served as private cells for the senior nuns. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike.
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