‘Not yet, madame. ” “But I didn’t lose it that way, did I?” She grew hysterical. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. The boy she had loved was gone. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me.
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