Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. “I wonder,” he said, “is there anything we could do to help you to get rid of him?” “Can you think of anything?” Anna answered. ‘Now then, missie. These interests her world promptly, through the agency of schoolmistresses, older school-mates, her aunt, and a number of other responsible and authoritative people, assured her she must on no account think about. This time she was indeed beaten. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow.
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