" This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears. Go, and let him in. The thought of beauty became an obsession. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. . It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night.
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