He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. " It was curiously like the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those who disobeyed the Word. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. You only live a block away!” 236 “I’ll do my best.
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