A middle-aged countrywoman, plump of cheek, and a little shy. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. " "Make good your assertions," cried Trenchard, furiously, "or——" "To the proof," interrupted the stranger, calmly. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. ’ ‘Do not say so. Here's your health in a bumper, and wishing you a better husband than your first. ‘I did not send you a card because in the normal way of things you rarely attend such affairs.
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