. "Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. The kindly faced landlady had failed to catch his name, and said he was a tall, handsome gentleman with a great black mustache. " Mrs. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. "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. Her tone was hoarse with passion. I have the right also to throw you out. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. Sheppard, struggling to get free. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. 102 When he took her out, he was proud of her.
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