She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. She held out her hand for it, but Gerald smiled. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. “I am not dependent upon any one. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. When night fell, he crept into the town of Tottenham.
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