He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ” “No. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. "If you've done wrong, confess it, and I'll forgive you!" "I don't deserve to be forgiven!" returned Jack, bursting into tears; "for I'm afraid I've done very wrong. ” She answered. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. S.
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