. "It's the ordinary's signature, undoubtedly," replied Jack. Mr. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. She paused for a moment. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. She laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. . We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage.
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