She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. In the first place, Mrs. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. —D'ye hear?" Still the widow remained silent. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. "What have you seen?" inquired Lady Trafford. "Solid ivory!" he said aloud; "solid from dome to neck! That's James Boyle in the family group. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps.
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