" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. She turned her head to each side. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. ‘And if he is dead I know not. "It was the story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native land and wandered strange paths emptily. ‘For my part, I am in no hurry to end this exciting little adventure. “I have brought you very nearly to my door. She had been forced to buy herself that pair of boots and a walking-skirt, and the pearl necklace at the pawnbrokers’ had yielded very disappointingly.
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