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The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good. “He knows. She hadn't measured up; she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. Moreoever, it had cost her a whipping and several days’ imprisonment in her cell on bread and water. Have you thought of the monstrous lie you are adding to your theft?" "Lie?" said Spurlock, astounded. During this period Sir Montacute has been gathered to his fathers. " "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs.

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