"You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. “I wonder if it is. But I'd a mind to try whether you really loved him as much as you pretended. Mrs. "You must take it to Sir Rowland Trenchard's in Southampton Fields. Earles glanced at it, and his eyes flashed with anger. Lucy was silent. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came. Anna said nothing. Wood's charms equalled your description. ’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. Wood having disposed of the brandy, and pronounced himself much better, hurried close to the fire-side, and informed his friend in a few words of the inhospitable treatment he had experienced from the gentlemen of the Mint; whereupon Mr. "Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. “See you.
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