" "Blessings upon him!" cried Lady Trafford, fervently. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. “Mr. Supposing that was it; at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? "Didn't you despise the men your father brought home—the beachcombers?" "No. " Animated by this trifling success, he proceeded with fresh ardour, and the rapidity of his progress was proclaimed by the heap of bricks, stones, and mortar which before long covered the floor. ” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. An Englishwoman. "Good night, Master. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed.
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