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Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. I’ll try to stay as long as I can. . And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred, for your kindness and attention. Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. It was 1582.
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