“It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. Gwen made an inquiry, and, directed by Mrs.
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