The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. Wild," said the turnkey, trembling in every joint. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. " As he spoke, several shots were fired from the upper part of the house, and two men fell mortally wounded. I hope you have learned your lesson now and come to see—come to realize—how things are. Bullding,” she declared. F. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. .
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