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" "It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering herself by a powerful effort; "but never allude to the circumstance again. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Set the boy free. She no more realizes what she has done than a child of eight. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. ‘Thought it was downright wicked to keep you ignorant of your proper background. "It is the voice of inspiration," said Thames; "and I receive it as a solemn command. ” It was settled. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. ’ Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back. He laughed lightly. A slow anger burned in the man.
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