Trenchard glanced at the document. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. ’ ‘You certain? She’s a thought too volatile for my money. ” “How absurd!” Annabel declared. ’ ‘Then you shall no longer do so. I met you here as Lady Ferringhall. She is very charming, and we all admire her immensely. " "You are heiress to the Trenchard property," rejoined Jonathan, "one of the largest estates in Lancashire. Very glad. Kneebone, his impertinence was copied to the letter by Solomon. Hearing the approach of the rider, Mr. Would she were alive to back my suit!" "This is beyond all endurance," said Winifred, striving to withdraw her hand. “I’d sooner condemn you to Hell. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp.
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