You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. " "No," cried the lady, "this room—I recollect—it has a back window. ” She noted that as a good saying, and it germinated and spread tentacles of explanation through her brain. It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. Lest the carpenter should be taxed with too much uxoriousness, it behoves us to ascertain whether the personal attractions of his helpmate would, in any degree, justify the devotion he displayed. He did not like it. ” “Then I,” she said, “have too much character.
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