"Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since. . ’ Still no response. “You will pardon me, sir,” he said in a subdued tone, “but I think that you have forgotten to look at your engagement book. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. “Are you going to the Vorsack’s for dinner tonight?” “Yes, I think I’ll stop by.
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