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Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment. Only you good ones— shirk. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. They sat down at the dining room table which seemed empty and 259 huge in the stark, white-walled room. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. I don’t believe any one could have traced us here. ‘Well, nothing,’ uttered her betrothed crossly, before Gerald could answer.
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