"He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. The terror faded from her eyes. She waited expectantly. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. There must be ways of getting rid of him. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. “I shot him. I have said that I am but a nun now. Men of action by the scarlet coats with their grey facings—insignia of the county militia. Yet, I suppose that at the present moment I am the most envied man in the room.
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