We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter. The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing. ‘You see, it is that my papa, he is without sympathy,’ said the lady sadly. . Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. Oh, Heavens; that I should have ever indulged a hope of happiness while that terrible man lives!" "Compose yourself, Joan," said Wood; "all will yet be well. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did. Prudence? Mr Remenham’s sister that was.
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