The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Wants me to look out for you a bit. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. "I swear it," rejoined Jonathan, readily. "I am only fit for such as him. . “That is as you will,” she said. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling.
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