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He pressed the bloody wrist into her mouth, and she though she could not feel it or 72 control it, she knew she was being made to swallow. ‘It is not possible. We're to be given a treat to-night. “Lord!” she said. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres.
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