“An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. She fell into another depression, refusing to touch Sebastian or call him husband when he demanded it. " "No," cried the lady, "this room—I recollect—it has a back window. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. " "And leave you thus?" rejoined Jack. Her lips were dry and cracked. ” “For you.
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