What he intended to do with it is of little consequence now. Manning think?” said her aunt. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. Still, it was true about men. Or else I would have finished him. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. Her tone was icy. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before.
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