" "You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. “Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to see her in a carriage. ” “I heard she was wanted for a murder. Do you expect me, I wonder. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping.
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