” She was frightened—his anger always did frighten her—and in her resolve to conceal her fright she carried a queen-like dignity to what she felt even at the time was a preposterous pitch. Look at these walls. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. ” He paused. She heard him come in; the light burned on. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. He only laughed his defiance. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes. The change will come to-day.
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