You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. ’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. As she sat the bride actually woke up, sat up, and looked frightfully around the room.
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