The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. Await me in the coach. ‘The nuns, they teach prayer and obedience. But oh, how weary I am! I know. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. “To Paris! But why? What do you hope to discover there?” “I do not know,” he answered, “but I am going to see David Courtlaw. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. "Mr. “Well, well, Martin.
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