’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. ” “You have her face and figure,” he muttered. . Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. ” “You have not seen the evening paper?” “No.
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