On the contrary, his glass was never idle, and finding it not filled quite so frequently as he desired, he applied himself, notwithstanding the expressive looks and muttered remonstrances of Mr. " "I can't! I can't—not now!" "Bat!—can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and forgive? She loves you. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. " Winifred looked as if she could not indulge such a supposition for a single moment. Arrived beneath an aperture in the broken roof, he was preparing to pass through it, when he observed a little heap of tiles upon the floor, which appeared to have been recently dislodged. He could imagine it even if he could not feel it.
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