"Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. You. I’m not a lovesick boy. You dear, dear girl. "Damnation!" exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of the carpenter; "this is not the villain, Sir Cecil. She blushed prettily, and in a moment regained command of her tongue. The newcomer stopped short upon the threshold.
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