Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. Hogarth," remarked Jack, dejectedly. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Disappointment flickered in Gerald’s chest, and he did not hesitate to speak his mind, unable to help a reproachful note. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. His name is carved upon a beam up stairs.
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