That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs. Capes most trying. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. . "For what?" "I had the paper with me. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. "What's the matter, father!" continued the new-comer, addressing Wood. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. ’ Melusine sobered, sitting down again. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. Wood; "here's a pretty to-do about nothing. Wood, now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than ever,—as well as a young and beautiful female, in whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's daughter.
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