“Not to-night,” she said. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. But this wild scheme was speedily abandoned; and, nerved by despair, the carpenter resolved to hazard an attempt, from the execution, almost from the contemplation, of which he had hitherto shrunk. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. I have recently made your sister’s acquaintance, and in the course of conversation I understood from her that her Christian name was Anna. She wanted to be on with the show. “I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything.
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