"Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. "Let me see," replied Wood; "exactly twelve years ago last November. ” She rose up. “John, we should be getting out of here. "As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. ” “And I also,” Brendon echoed. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this.
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