"He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said. " "Only two minutes more, Sir," intreated Edgeworth Bess, advancing towards him in such a manner as to screen Jack, who crept into the farthest part of the angle,—"only two minutes, and we've done. He wanted to put on his overcoat and come after you and look for you—in London. There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture. Byrom,—a poet of whom his native town, Manchester, may be justly proud; and his features and figure have been preserved by the most illustrious of his companions on the present occasion,—Hogarth,—in the levée in the "Rake's Progress," and in "Southwark Fair. He was tender with her as he had not been in years. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much too good for him, and was never meant to be a journeyman carpenter's wife, still less what is she now. I was stupid—stupid and impulsive beyond measure to burst upon you in this way. " "And have her warn my father! No. “Yes, I remember you now.
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