"Not a syllable," replied Wild. ” “Did I?” she said. Dim souls flitted about her, not only speaking but it would seem even thinking in undertones. “Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. "If I were your father, young gentleman," returned Jackson, enraged at the interruption, "I'd teach you not to speak till you were spoken to. He found the door ajar, and, to his surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table, busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of paper. " He then hurried Darrell down another short flight of steps, and entered a small chamber at the back of the house.
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