I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. He told her something about music, the great world outside. Then she would write and tell her father what she had done, and put their relationship on a new footing. I shall quit it and go abroad. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. But I'll take care of her bill, if worst comes to worst.
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