"Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. ” “I understand,” he said, doggedly. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. Jonathan laughed scornfully. She could hear their footsteps upon the pavement. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. Would you like to borrow some of my clothes? I think we're about the same size. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging.
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