A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. She leaned back in her chair. I know my son's voice too well. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard.
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