Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. Wild," replied the other, "a little shaken, that's all. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. Yes. Tears started to the young man's eyes on beholding the change, and it was with difficulty he could command himself sufficiently to make the inquiries he desired to do respecting the former owner of the house. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. “I love some one else. Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short.
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