"There!" cried Mrs. His eyes were set too close together. Her confession was still unmade. And then if some day Capes wanted her—saw fit to alter his views upon friendship. ’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. The worthy carpenter was restored to instant good humour by a glance from his helpmate; and, notwithstanding the infliction he had just endured, he would have quarrelled with any one who had endeavoured to persuade him that he was not the happiest of men, and Mrs. ‘Me, I do not need the help of anyone.
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