"I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. Lucy savored the normalcy of the scene. "Is this her work?" "It is," answered Thames. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. On Thursday we embark for South America. "You know what I mean," said the trader, gravely. ’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. ” They returned to the Beck house and he walked her to the front door. Good night.
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