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‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. Her little white hand stole across the table. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. Winifred's features would have been pretty, for they were regular and delicately formed, if they had not been slightly marked by the small-pox;—a disorder, that sometimes spares more than it destroys, and imparts an expression to be sought for in vain in the smoothest complexion. Larry was able to retire. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. I came to the Beck’s house. “All day.
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