“I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. What a contrast did the lovely scene she now gazed upon present to the squalid neighbourhood she had recently quitted! On all sides, expanded prospects of country the most exquisite and most varied. “How are you feeling?” She asked. You might even tire of me by then, you know. The progress of time was marked in Mr.
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