" "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. She pulled him down by his lapels and arched her head readily towards his neck. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. " "Very well. . " "Then, I'm quite easy," cried Winifred, joyfully. He trembled violently. . " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. “A lady, Dunster.
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