Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. Some day I may forgive you; but not now. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. "Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort.
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