Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. ‘I do not know how you think you may help me,’ she said slowly. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. An electric light flashed out from the wall. Spurling, hastening to the rescue. I don’t care. Must be plenty of work for you to do. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. I’ve paid for you and helped you, and I’m going to conquer you somehow—if I have to break you to do it.
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