He was disquieted. "Relating to the father of the boy—Thames Darrell," supplied Jonathan. Wood's famous 'prentice?" "What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise. "No, Sir, it's quite possible—more than possible. ‘But Gérard—if you mean the fellow Alderley who was making eyes at Yolande—is not here. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. " "Degrade herself," rejoined Jonathan, brutally. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment.
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