—'It's all up with us,' says he; 'they've taken away our charter. Don't worry about me. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision.
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