Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. One would say she could try to —to prevent that her daughter will go to the convent. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Ann Veronica tried to keep hold of a complicated situation and not lose her head. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child.
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