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" "It is," answered Wood. It is but a wild threat. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. I am determined to fight my own little battle with the world —there must be a place for me somewhere, and I mean to find it. He smiled. But I'll not believe it of you. ‘And how is it that you have acquired this garb of a religieuse?’ he asked as she fitted the veil over her head. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill.
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