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Perhaps it was loneliness. It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. She could see that he was curious, so she sat upon him and they rocked back and forth. Her shoulders began to ache. . —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. Did he not look for her in the morning when she entered—come very quickly to her? She thought of him as she had last seen him looking down the length of the laboratory to see her go. "Come Bess,—no whimpering. She stared at his pleading face. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. If I do not look after her, she has no one. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere.

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