It was her distinctive test of an emotional state, its interference with a kindly normal digestion. But tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were placed—come and sit by me—here—upon the bed—give me your hand—and tell me all about it. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. " "I am not, by Heaven," returned the knight, solemnly. Abruptly the sterner look vanished and she twinkled. ’ ‘Believe me, she wouldn’t have cared.
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