What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. “A bad thing for me when that legacy came. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. "And yet, he has been spared thus long; perhaps with a wise purpose," rejoined Thames.
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