" "Has Jonathan Wild been here to-day?" asked Mrs. Go up and get my daughter so we can have some homemade pie. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. "I was just thinking of you Jack.
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