" "Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously, "but that's easily accounted for. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. ‘It could not be helped, whichever way I made my presence known. I can't bear it. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. “Never mind me. Mr. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. Supper was over.
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