He said. ” When he brought home papers from Florence verifying that she had been declared dead having committed suicide the fateful day at the manor, she could barely believe Gianfrancesco’s signature at the bottom of the page. Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. "I shall like to call you that. ’ She counted off on her fingers. There! You are trying to take your hand away. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. —Well, then, my dear," he added aloud, "do you still entertain the strong attachment you did to Captain Darrell?" Winifred's cheeks glowed with blushes, and fixing her eyes, which flashed with resentment, upon the questioner, she said: "I have promised to answer your question, and I will do so. ” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. This is clear over my head. I have now settled my affairs, and made every preparation for my departure to France, where I shall spend the remainder of my days.
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