"You are out betimes this morning, Mr. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. He remained listening attentively. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. So saying, he manfully resumed his work; while Wood and Thames quitted the room, and went down stairs. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. Honestly, I never did. As O'Higgins signed the hotel register, his keen glance took in the latest signatures. “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. E.
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