"Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. And now her father said she must not go. . “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. "I advised him not to trouble you farther about Jack Sheppard," answered the supposed janizary. A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset.
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