She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful. " "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. Mr. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least. Well, come back in half an hour. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. The Storm VII. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe.
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