"Oh gracious! he's lost. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. Why, he can scarcely be twenty. Here he was preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. He dared not go on. ‘I have said that I will tell you nothing of this soi-disant Valade. ‘Merci, dieu. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. "Well, good night, Mr.
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