We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. " "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. Everything proclaimed the mischievous propensities of the recent occupants of the chamber.
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