She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. There must be persons tender and loving in this world. Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms. ” “You know, Mr. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house.
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