” Anna wheeled an easy chair to the fire. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. "Can you make me other than a condemned felon? Can you make me not Jack Sheppard?" "No," replied Blueskin; "and I wouldn't if I could. "No—Sheppard?" rejoined Wild. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. And, if you hear any odd noise in the parlour, don't mind it. We felt like thieves. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. ” She implored him. . . “Can you come out tonight?” “Um, sure, I guess.
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