The next morning came a compact letter from her father. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. " "Well, suddenly I knew that I must see the inside of that box, which had a padlock. Without waiting to have the information repeated, Wood rushed forth, determined as soon as he could procure assistance, to proceed to Jonathan Wild's house in the Old Bailey; while Mrs. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. But, after all, it will be different. "I was afraid it would be so. He patted the hand on his sleeve. Mr.
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