” “It is most unlikely that I shall be able to do so,” Anna answered. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. There are way-stations—even terminals. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. ' Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may yet do well. One marked difference between the poor outcast, who, oppressed by poverty, and stung by shame, had sought temporary relief in the stupifying draught,—that worst "medicine of a mind diseased,"—and those of the same being, freed from her vices, and restored to comfort and contentment, if not to happiness, by a more prosperous course of events, was exhibited in the mouth. “This is the slavery of the veiled life. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir.
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