"Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough. He would know the truth then once and for all. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. "Don't go, I beg of you!" she implored.
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