It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. And she—’ ‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly. Your husband could have told you that. Annabel a murderess! It was not possible. Only your pa knew as how I were the one as saw to you at the wet-nurse’s cottage, and he got a-hold of me and made me bring him to you. Ed. “I trust you altogether. " "I'll take my chance," replied Jonathan, with a sinister smile. A queer nut. And you have stolen my dagger.
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