ng-ring.  free and ,  his palm.

    Very good, says one of tors, more satisfied noes in a book. I curn a page and, suddenly, long for paper. Very good. e ress. You do o t and o tell you to be your name, ory one t resembles yours? You kno?

    Ricches.

    Yes, sir, I say, in a whisper.

    And your name is Susan Smith?

    Yes, sir.

    And you o Mrs Rivers—Miss Lilly, as was—in her uncles house, of Briar, before her marriage?

    I nod.

    And before t— treet, Mayfair?

    No, sir. I never hey are all Mrs Riverss fancy.

    I speak, as a servant migantly, some otance, o provide tory ors to seek t. e do not they will, however.

    tor nods again. And Mrs Rivers, ;fancyquot;. hen did such fancies begin?

    I srange, I say quietly. ts at Briar e righer was mad, sir.

    Noing. tors dont  to s. Go on ions, only.

    Yes, sir, I say. I gaze at ters rising from thick as needles.

    And Mrs Riverss marriage, says tor.  affect her?

    It , sir, I say, ime, so love Mr Rivers; and   of , sarted up very queer ...quot;

    tor looks at  matc is quite remarkable!—as if, in making a burden of o  burden to anotter able to bear it. Sion of urns to me. A fiction, indeed, fully. tell me tress care for books? for reading?

    I meet  my t seems to close, or be splintered, like t anserary life. ed to t of learning, and sao ion as  o a sons. Mrs Riverss first passion was books.

    t! says tor. leman I dont doubt. But to literature— t.