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"I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. Charvill’s command of French was enough to tell him that, for its entire content was devoted to commending Nicholas Charvill’s fourteen year old daughter into the care of the Abbess. How men suffer for the foolish things they do!" "Ay to that. ‘I have an excellent excuse to remain comfortably ensconced in my parlour here, able to indulge in my favourite pastime. It would give me great pleasure if you would dine with me somewhere first. They would suffer amazing hardships to hunt the snow-leopard; but in the Temple of Five Hundred Gods they would not take the trouble to ask the name of one! But this girl, she was alone. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. It’s no good hiding it any more. " "I do love him," cried Blueskin, "and that's the long and short of it. .
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