"You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. ‘But it is entirely natural that I choose my own country. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. She did not forge a note. . She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not. ” “That brings us back,” said Ann Veronica, “to the mystery.
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