“Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. Quite!” He sat in the arm-chair and took tea, and consumed several of the extra cakes which she had sent out for and talked to her and expressed himself, looking very earnestly at her with his deep-set eyes, and carefully avoiding any crumbs on his mustache the while. \" He said. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. “Heaven knows!” said Mr. Rowland's purposes were, however, defeated in a manner as unexpected as appalling.
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