’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. "I leave this bowl for you," he cried, returning it to the landlord untasted. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. ” He whispered with reverence. He bent to her hand, and she slipped off the ring and gave it to him to examine. Between her and the fair, far prospect of freedom and self-development manoeuvred Mr. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep.
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