"I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. "At length I am my own master," murmured the knight, as his foot touched the strand. But that bridge was more remarkable than any the metropolis now possesses. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. ’ Then he bowed, raising his hat in salute and, crossing to the coach, spoke briefly to its driver and leapt into it without looking back. He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. As to following, there was no one. She loves you too well for that. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. This was done, and Austin returned with a crest-fallen look to the table.
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