.

ROSE WOUNDED.
The light of morning was yet cold along the passages of the house when Polly Wheedle, hurrying to her young mistress, met her loosely dressed and with a troubled face.
'What 's the matter, Polly?
I was coming to you.' 'O, Miss Rose! and I was coming to you.

Miss Bonner's gone back to her convulsions again.

She's had them all night.

Her hair won't last till thirty, if she keeps on giving way to temper, as I tell her: and I know that from a barber.' 'Tush, you stupid Polly! Does she want to see me ?' 'You needn't suspect that, Miss.