In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. Will you not remember what has passed between us? I have the right to take my place by your side. Then she turned, and entering the inner room, commenced to dress hastily for the street. Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. I am a single man, and——” “Thank you,” she interrupted. ‘You can’t go to England. ’ ‘And you will not,’ came triumphantly from the cherry lips. Mistresses neither deserve consideration nor commiseration. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another.
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