Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. Her first orders were to summon the rest of her servants to make immediate preparations for her departure for Lancashire. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. ” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. She hastened past. She refused coffee, though she knew that anyhow she was doomed to a sleepless night. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness.
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