Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. Every moment. " "Why, surely you don't think your guests would steal them," observed Rachel, archly. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. " "Thank'ee, Sir," grinned Sheppard.
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