She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. Thank you for the books. “I don’t see what he has to do with my coming to London?” “He—he worships the ground you tread on. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence.
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