And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. But, after all, it will be different. "He's in St. Langley," rejoined Mrs. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. I didn’t understand. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. " This she did carefully, but inwardly commenting that he was still in the realm of strange fancies. There was no one to be seen. ‘Of course I see that,’ she said impatiently.
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