Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind. “I will tell you as much as this,” she continued. ’ ‘It’s no use blaming me, Gerald,’ uttered Roding, shrugging helplessly as his senior turned questioning eyes on him. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. Opening the trap-door, he then descended to the vaults —searched each cell, and every nook and corner separately. “If I were to marry now,” she said, “it would be with a sense of humiliation.
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