” Then she fell to thinking about her aunt. “You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. The chief scene of these disgusting orgies,—the cellar, just referred to,—was a large low-roofed vault, about four feet below the level of the street, perfectly dark, unless when illumined by a roaring fire, and candles stuck in pyramidal lumps of clay, with a range of butts and barrels at one end, and benches and tables at the other, where the prisoners, debtors, and malefactors male and female, assembled as long as their money lasted, and consumed the time in drinking, smoking, and gaming with cards and dice. This time you cannot. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. He saw now that it was merely a boy. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once.
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