“Soon enough, John. . . “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley. “I trust you altogether. ‘Merci, Joan,’ cried Melusine, moving to her and seizing her hand which she clasped between both her own for a moment, as she turned to the others. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since. ’ ‘Pah! Do you think I will run away? Do not be so foolish, and go and fetch him this instant. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. "Can't you guess?" returned Winifred, throwing her arms about her neck.
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