"The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. Strange, I could never learn her history. Lucy sat paralyzed, as still as Tiger Lily on the death raft. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett. Where is he?" "Here," answered Jack. Yet she took with her an uneasy consciousness that in this affair might lie the germs of future trouble. It was her foster brother Mike, on his way to the bathroom. Such was the effect produced upon the passengers by his good looks and manly deportment, that few—especially of the gentler and more susceptible sex—failed to turn round and bestow a second glance upon the handsome stranger. Wood!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. "He called me a wanton, Hoddy. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. She leaves town to-morrow.
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