She was weeping now. She repeated this breathlessly. By the side of her plate was a small key. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some fifteen years later. “You are Mademoiselle Pellissier?” he asked, without rising to his feet. ” She eyed him scornfully.
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