Good-bye. Over the Lodge, upon a dial was inscribed the appropriate motto, "Venio sicut fur. I must have been very wound up. 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. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. " "Very well, Sir," replied Sheppard. Take that box, and put it into the carriage yourself. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name.
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