The decision had been sound. I shall ride to St. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. "So has the butterfly evil thoughts. There has never been a white woman at McClintock's. ‘I was not born to this. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. "Not so," replied Jack, throwing down the skreen. ” She replied.
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