He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. "My coat!" Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. "But, I should think, after the specimen you've just given of your amiable disposition, no person would be likely to saddle himself with such an incumbrance. ” He replied solemnly, looking straight into her eyes. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. “Hainault, Celeste’s friend. She still kicked herself for it. I'm as much astonished as you. I never even burrowed down into the trunk. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. “Now replace the stone, my child. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. ” “But why——” Sir John stopped short.
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