"Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. You’re such a strange girl. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. One marked difference between the poor outcast, who, oppressed by poverty, and stung by shame, had sought temporary relief in the stupifying draught,—that worst "medicine of a mind diseased,"—and those of the same being, freed from her vices, and restored to comfort and contentment, if not to happiness, by a more prosperous course of events, was exhibited in the mouth.
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