"Done!" cried Shotbolt. " "Lord bless us! you alarm me. Courtlaw sat with folded arms. ” “You mean—you think——” “Hush! I think that he was concealed in my room, and Annabel and he met there. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. ‘Parbleu, the house, is it broken in the least? I do not think so. We can be married tomorrow in Paris. The boy’s besotted. ’ ‘I shall stop him,’ declared the old lady furiously. “To tell you the truth, I am a little dull.
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