The Night-Cellar. " "Pray cease these compliments," returned Winifred, "and, if you have any communication to make, do not delay it. "O lud! what an exquisite box!" cried Edgeworth Bess. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. John knew everybody, it seemed. God had never answered any of her prayers. “I am going to ask for your forgiveness. She said”—Ann Veronica shivered again—“‘I hope it won’t make you uncomfortable, my dear’—like that—‘and whatever you do, do be careful of your hair!’ I think—I judge from her manner—that she thought it was just a little indelicate of us—considering everything; but she tried to be practical and sympathetic and live down to our standards. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn. “What did it matter?” she cried.
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