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Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. “It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. —'How so?' says I. “The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett. I am an independent sort of person,” she continued, “and I am engaged in an attempt to earn my own living.

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