” Anna promptly alighted with the letter in her hand. It was Annabel who caught at the paper. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. "Sit down, fool!" "Jack," said Kneebone, who had been considerably interested by the foregoing scene, "are these regrets for your past life sincere?" "Suppose them so," rejoined Jack, "what then?" "Nothing—nothing," stammered Kneebone, his prudence getting the better of his sympathy. Ruth will be a gold mine for a man of your peculiar bent. The Frenchman was already being followed.
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