We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. I shan't let you off a farthing. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your arm. "Souls," she answered, drily. ” “And who made the arrangements for you, and sent you there?” Courtlaw asked. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. CHAPTER XIII.
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