Sheppard. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. "No, I shan't," replied Rachel, saucily. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. If you talk of your faults, I shall talk of your splendors. Had she expected to wed Valade herself? Had the fellow broken a vow of betrothal, or abandoned her? He must find out more.
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