A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. Out of sight of that tell-tale window, the two officers darted across the grounds, speedily gaining the lee of the mansion walls. But I waited in vain. ‘The whole town is talking. The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down, till the chain tightened at the staple. I have pleaded with her—no wonder that I have pleaded with her in vain. “Cheveney!” she repeated. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil.
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