Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. They negotiated several steps, and then the stair turned a corner. “Never was such an age of transition. “You shall,” she said. " "Indeed!" rejoined Sir Rowland, haughtily; "perhaps, you will refresh my memory as to the time, and place. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. . ” 227 “Your family?” “She was my first wife, and because she turned me, she was like a mother to me. She watched, puzzled, as her cavalier frowned at the newcomer, glancing from him to Melusine and back again.
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