Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. " "Wait a bit, massa," replied the grinning negro,—"lilly bit—see all right fust. ’ Both Valade and the granddaughter gazed at him blankly. what’s your name again?” He asked. About noon, next day, he was able to move; and the gale having abated, he set out homewards with his little charge. She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. “You’d have to think how to get in between his bones. .
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