’ A thought caught in her mind and she turned quickly to her old nurse. " "Never!" cried Mrs. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. The van started with a jerk and rumbled on its way. Both, however, having safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and passed down the first flight of steps in silence. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. Montague Hill is. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr.
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