Mr. Manning. 'But I don't desire to spoil sport,—not I. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. “I have made no arrangements as yet— none at all. ‘That’s right, you bone idle do-nothings. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. "Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. "No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant, "as you proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you might choose to see him yourself.
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