"I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. But these fears, like those he had recently experienced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to the roof, congratulating himself that owing to the opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all probability escaped serious injury. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. It’s awkward, but we’ll get round it somehow.
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