This is altogether insupportable. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to. Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. “I’m not nearly so sure as you. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. " "You are heiress to the Trenchard property," rejoined Jonathan, "one of the largest estates in Lancashire.
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