Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. “You will have some tea?” she asked. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. Will you not, brother?" "Promise," said a deep voice in Trenchard's ear. I might as well be at Morningside Park. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. It's as well to be on the safe side.
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