He insisted once again on opening the car door for her. Plote was sleeping or deaf. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. Help! help!" But her cries were unheeded. She came to adore them. In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. "I beg pardon, Sir," replied Jack, with the accent and manner of the janizary; "I was betrayed into the exclamation by my surprise that anything in which Sir Rowland Trenchard was interested could have reference to so humble a person as Mrs.
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