The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. “Cheer up, Annabel.
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