Until two hours ago she was as contented and as happy as a linnet. “Yes, but maybe later. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. She resolved not to allow him or her hunger detract from the performance at hand, as it would be a special one, an evening to be remembered in the gray days to follow like a precious jewel. “If ever you do and I can help you in any way, by advice or inquiry or recommendation—You see, I’m no believer in feminine incapacity, but I do perceive there is such a thing as feminine inexperience. He impetuously grasped a hold of her hand, looking for a callous. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. “It really is not necessary.
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