"I tell you what, Mr. Wood as a play-room to the two boys; and, like most boy's playrooms, it exhibited a total absence of order, or neatness. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. But he looked back into the hall and spoke to the sergeant who could just be seen behind him. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. I believe that her ladyship is going to Carey House, and on to the Marquis of Waterford’s ball,” he added, hastily consulting a diary on the hall table.
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