Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. They carried no more than bare subsistence wages; and they demanded all her time and energy. As the night advanced, Mr.
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