As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. The dark and desperate thoughts that were passing through his mind at this time will presently be shown. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. Bit priggish, isn’t it? And if he only knew it—so absurd. “I believe that you are right,” he said softly. ‘Certainly those are names of the most undistinguished, and I would scorn to have them. And yet I know not—for the object of his visit here to-night was to serve Jack, who, if your statement is correct, which I cannot however for a moment believe, does not deserve his assistance.
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