Surely he was imagining this picture. . He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. I’m going to that stupid party at the Vorsack’s to get to the bottom of it. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and composed as he could; "what brings you to town, eh?— Nothing amiss, I trust?" "Nothing whatever, Sir," answered the widow. ’ ‘You certain? She’s a thought too volatile for my money. Shall we say at half-past seven?” She rose from her chair. ” “Oh, neat. ‘No.
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