A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. ‘Pig! Pig, a thousand times!’ Running footsteps could be heard now, and she knew that the commotion was bringing the nuns, just as she had hoped. They had cried a little, both. From all angles he was at a disadvantage—in weight, skill, endurance. " "What do you mean?" asked the female, in astonishment.
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