“He fell over at my feet,” she continued. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. "But I'll yet disappoint you. Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad.
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