"Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. " "I am calm—quite calm, Rowland," she answered, with lips whose agitation belied her words.
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