She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. “You may not leave. ‘But what will happen to Lucia? Are we to kill her?’ ‘Of course not. He still watched her and questioned her. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination.
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