"O lud! what an exquisite box!" cried Edgeworth Bess. Then he got up and left her. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. ’ Gerald knew the caress in his voice was a trifle ironic. An influence of this description appeared to be exerted on the present occasion. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees. He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof, approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story loftier than its neighbours. Arriving at the chapel, their wonder increased.
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