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’ ‘Exactly so. ’ ‘Then what?’ demanded Lucilla in a hushed tone. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. Tom Sheppard was always a close file, and would never tell whom he married. A cat came and rubbed herself against him as he entered the house, and seemed by her mewing to ask him for food. Had she expected to wed Valade herself? Had the fellow broken a vow of betrothal, or abandoned her? He must find out more. White would not approve of callers. Sheppard, who made no resistance, along with him, entered the house, the door of which was instantly shut and barricaded. And she had been doubting since that walk in the Zoological Gardens whether, indeed, he did simply care for her. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. I might as well try to build a ladder to heaven. “Lucy Albert, sir.
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