" "No; I'm quite sure she said they're for you," replied Winifred; "but she does want to see father. ” “I suppose so. A neat tale, giving little away. " "Are you Mr. " Jack would not hazard a glance at Winifred; but, quitting the church, got into an adjoining meadow, and watched the party slowly ascending the road leading to Dollis Hill. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. Was there anything at all in those locked rooms of her aunt’s mind? Were they fully furnished and only a little dusty and cobwebby and in need of an airing, or were they stark vacancy except, perhaps, for a cockroach or so or the gnawing of a rat? What was the mental equivalent of a rat’s gnawing? The image was going astray. " While Mr.
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