"But, pardon my intrusion. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. " Jackson treated this menace with a loud laugh of derision. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. In spite of the tumultuous joy which agitated him, the bridegroom could not prevent the intrusion of some saddening thoughts, as he reflected upon the melancholy scene which he had so recently witnessed in the same place.
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