" "What a strange history is mine!" said Thames. Can she stay for dinner?\" Michelle asked, almost begging. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. "Won't you sit down?" "I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the doctor led the way. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. A little Madeira seemed to recover her enough to resume the discussion.
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