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" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. There are boats on the lake and shady depths and wildernesses of pine-wood. "I cannot do it. You know I call that positively wicked. But his role was altered, and he was now playing the bridegroom in this remarkable drama. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand.
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