Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. “Mr. ‘Yes, but I’m probably chasing moonbeams. It’s horrible to think of you!” “You’re an awful brick, Teddy!” she said. " "Unworthy, indeed!" sneered Mrs. Mr. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. In vain he fondly urged his suit, And, all in vain, the question put; She answered,—"Mr. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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