" "Do what you please with him," muttered Trenchard to Wild. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. A few more minutes, and she was safe. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. ” He replied solemnly, looking straight into her eyes. He shall have the estates. Hilary threw up his eyes. ” “Are you afraid?” “Only for you! Most of my income will vanish. These and her general preparations had perhaps a certain disproportion. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. Her patience was waning fast.
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