You have made us beggars to keep up your own grandeur.

God will see that you do not go unpunished." "Hush, hush!" cried Phebe aloud, stretching out her hand to Roland Sefton; "he will forgive you by and by.

Tell me: have you no message to send by me, sir?
When shall we hear from you ?" "If I get away safe," he answered, in a broken voice, "and if nothing is heard of me before, tell Felicita I will be in the place where I saw her first, this day six months.

Do not tell her till the time is near.

It will be best for her to know nothing of me at present." They were standing at the stile over which his road lay.