“He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. "So, you're admiring my cabinet, Sir Rowland," he remarked, with a sinister smile; "it is generally admired; and, sometimes by parties who afterwards contribute to the collection themselves,—ha! ha! This skull," he added, pointing to a fragment of mortality in the case beside them, "once belonged to Tom Sheppard, the father of the lad I spoke of just now. ” The full significance of her words did not instantly appear to him. She wanted to live. She could not make up her mind which was the finer, more elemental thing, which gave its values to the other. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes.
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