“Which is Mr. This is not the conduct of a jeune demoiselle. . “Would you stand it? I’m going to clear out. " The object of this discussion sat motionless. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. "Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead. “Sure, I guess so. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents.
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