Well, one must hope, that was all. She had a feeling at his departure as of an immense cavity, of something enormously gone; she could not tell whether it was infinite regret or infinite relief. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. ” She smiled at him broadly and kissed his cheek. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. My wife—killed me. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. Sheppard ascertained that Thames Darrell had been carried off—where she could not make out—by Jonathan Wild and Quilt Arnold; and that Jack had been induced to accompany Blueskin to the Mint.
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