About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. In the early hours of the morning, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Melusine had ventured to explore the mansion, the lantern she had brought in hand, commenting to herself all the time on the state of the place and the difficulties of her task, and having no idea of the consequences she was bringing on herself thereby. “Surely!” he remarked, with an expression of worried appeal. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. " "I am calm—perfectly calm," replied Winifred. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. ” He hesitated, and went off at a tangent.
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