She was never able to trace the changes her attitude had undergone, from the time when she believed herself to be the pampered Queen of Fortune, the crown of a good man’s love (and secretly, but nobly, worshipping some one else), to the time when she realized she was in fact just a mannequin for her lover’s imagination, and that he cared no more for the realities of her being, for the things she felt and desired, for the passions and dreams that might move her, than a child cares for the sawdust in its doll. Old Lancashire families both. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. "Confusion!" cried he; "there is another boat in our wake. " "Possibly not," replied Thames, in some confusion; "but I am not at liberty to speak. Whenever I feel particularly gregarious, I take the launch and run over to Copeley's and play poker for a couple of days. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh.
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