She cried out with the pain of it. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. I don’t think any surroundings could throw a shadow on you. ‘You see, it is that my papa, he is without sympathy,’ said the lady sadly. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. Suspicion was in his face. . ” “NEVER!” Her heart sank at the change in his expression. ’ ‘Ah, that is easy,’ she began, laughing.
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