The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. One hour later she had gone back to the mission—without the salt. "I can't say I did," replied Wood, somewhat reluctantly; "what with the confusion incident to the storm, and the subsequent press of business, I put it off till it was too late. Her mother missed writing for a week, and then she wrote in an unusual key. ” “You have not told me yet,” Annabel said, “how it is that you have dared to personate me. " "My father was of the blood-royal of France," exclaimed Thames. ‘Eh bien, you are not like Leonardo. Here they remained till midnight when, calling for their reckoning and their steeds, they left the house.
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