The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. In her sitting-room I found Montague Hill. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. Unable to withstand this appeal, Thames gave the required promise, adding, —"Oh! Winny, I wish Mr. Bird,—who was rushing up stairs, alarmed by Mr. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. I heard only after it was all over. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. Most of my people are upstairs dressing for dinner. “I dare not,” she answered. Everything was blurred. . She had behaved in every way perfectly.
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