Your servant, Mr. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. All this— the island and its affairs—was an old story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's eyes, as in the future she would see all things. Her father had determined on a new line. Not for me. So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of the Pearl River. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. “I love you, you know.
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