Nothing else matters. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. "Do you know this picture?" he added, with another significant look, and pointing to the miniature. " "It is false," cried Mrs. ’ He reddened a little, and shuffled his feet. You can’t go. “I thought you weren’t keeping up to the mark.
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