On Saturday he went to that there Mr Charvill’s house. ‘She wants me to marry her. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. She replied softly. Then she turned, and entering the inner room, commenced to dress hastily for the street. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true. There is no Heaven for your mother. "No, no," rejoined Thames; "fly—or I will not answer for your safety. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. .
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