Gregory B. “I hope you are going to Carey House. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. ‘She’s gone. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. A faint anticipation of triumph showed in his manner and a subdued excitement. His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. ‘You seem to understand the gentry very well. ’ Madame ventured a glance up at his face, and fluttered her lashes.
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