“Dear me!” he said. '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. The proceedings of this faction were narrowly watched by a vigilant and sagacious administration. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. He deserves none. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. "Is she married?" he asked, after a brief pause.
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