‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. The Supper at Mr. "Davies," said Rowland, delivering the babe, with a meaning look, to his attendant. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me. Austin was dismissing a host of inquirers who had been attracted thither by the news,—for it had already been extensively noised abroad.
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