” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. ’ With an air of real interest, he asked, ‘I suppose you did not dig a tunnel or fly in by balloon?’ The lady gazed at him blankly. "I will live," cried Blueskin, with a look of the deadliest hatred at Wild, "to be revenged on you. . "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. ‘But a spy I am not. 1 through 1.
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