"This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. Once I banged on the door so hard I split it in two. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. " "Odd's me! do you think so?" cried the host of the Trumpeter. Do you want me, too?” “Yes,” she whispered foolishly, in the throes of rapture. “But I am judge of that,” said Manning.
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