Section 3. He drew a little breath of relief. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. I feel a mixture of beast and uncle. Light flooded the uncarpeted chamber, revealing the decayed state of the place. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. Springing to his feet in an ecstasy of terror, he stumbled, and had well nigh realized his worst apprehensions. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye. “You are one of the Hampshire Pellissiers, I know, and your family are quite as good as ours. . "I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered. Then to the Dean's Head, in St.
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