"Forgive—forgive me!" "I have nothing to forgive," replied Mrs. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. "Was I out of my head?" "Yes. ‘Unheard of, ain’t it? To tell the truth, I half expected him to leave everything to one of his doxies. He had a peculiar way of stepping in, in a parry; knew his arm, and its just time of moving; put a firm faith in that, and never let his opponent escape. ‘Very inventive. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it. A sense of loss was amongst us. But this afternoon it discovered an unusual vein of irritability in her. "I find I was in error. .
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