Brendon. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind. "I was at Tyburn. He might call her wife, but she refused to give him his wedding night. " The Wastrel laughed. They were so good to me. Suppose her father turned her out of doors! She did not care, she meant to go. They were horrible people. " "That's the way it goes. "To—to—no matter what," returned the widow distractedly.
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