And then she would find work. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. He had never wanted daughters. Plots were hatched in the provinces, where many of the old and wealthy Catholic families resided, whose zeal for the martyr of their religion (as the Chevalier was esteemed), sharpened by the persecutions they themselves endured, rendered them hearty and efficient allies.
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