Womanhood is sacred to me. ’ ‘Ah. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her breast; and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. " "I was never going to tell anybody," she added. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else.
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