"No matter," replied Sheppard. Annabel laughed a little uneasily. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. Adventure rules, and morality—looks up the trains in the Bradshaw. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. ” “And they go?” “When they get the chance.
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