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But a far greater affliction was in store for her. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. Anna suddenly leaned forward and looked around her. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. “Do you understand what I am talking about? It’s no good if you don’t. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. Her eyes were wide and bright. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can. Ann Veronica said she didn’t care. —Well, then, my dear," he added aloud, "do you still entertain the strong attachment you did to Captain Darrell?" Winifred's cheeks glowed with blushes, and fixing her eyes, which flashed with resentment, upon the questioner, she said: "I have promised to answer your question, and I will do so. Women who Dids, and all that kind of thing. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. "Well, well; I have given out of my wisdom.
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