The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. T’weren’t fitting, we knew that. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall. ’ The girl bit her lip and backed a little, while her husband shifted to stand at her side. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. I have had no one but for you. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food.
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