She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. "I am only fit for such as him. And always they were well satisfied. " This strong feeling of remorse having found a natural vent, in some degree subsided, and he addressed himself to his present situation. “Do you mean in looks?” she asked. But I waited in vain. Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand.
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