The fire still burned brightly. A hansom stopped a little way off. I could not keep away any longer. Sheppard. But it was only six-thirty. "We have had a sad loss, my dear Winifred," he began,—"for I must use the privilege of an old friend, and address you by that familiar name,—we have had a sad loss in the death of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere. “I am so sorry. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. Niente. And a broken picture that was torn when I hit him with it. He then made off. Robbed of their prey, the fury of the mob became ungovernable.
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