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There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. ’ Gerald raised his brows. She could not see what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jonathan's devilish triumphing glance, and read in it,—"Your son has committed a robbery—here—in these holy walls—he is mine—mine for ever!" She uttered a loud scream, and fainted. ’ Gerald laughed. No! not even the derivation! But the fashion’s been set and in it you must be. We had better have it over. " The words were scarcely pronounced, when Rowland disappeared. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping.
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