“But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. And, as usual,” she continued, a little bitterly, “I seem to have been sent along with the dullest and least edifying of Mrs. Old Newgate 302 X. Wood in their favour. “MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. Sudden indignation boiled up in him.
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