Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. “Bother it all!” she swore. ’ He called through the library door. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. Men have seen to that. But how could you get—Who gave you credit? “You see,” said Ann Veronica, “my landlady kept on my room while I was in Holloway, and the fees for the College mounted up pretty considerably. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears.
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