“Oh, but life is difficult!” she groaned. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. Before leaving the place he looked upwards, and could just discern the blue vault and pale stars of Heaven through an iron grating at the top. " CHAPTER V.
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