In olden days it boasted a chapel, dedicated to Saint Thomas; beneath which there was a crypt curiously constructed amid the arches, where "was sepultured Peter the Chaplain of Colechurch, who began the Stone Bridge at London:" and it still boasted an edifice (though now in rather a tumbledown condition) which had once vied with a palace,—we mean Nonesuch House. But here the resemblance stopped. " "It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering herself by a powerful effort; "but never allude to the circumstance again. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. A slight cough uttered by Jonathan at the moment awakened the echoes of the place, and was returned in hollow reverberations. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. "Here, take this and get the letter and open and read it. . He looked melancholy enough, it is true. I'll wait for you down here. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. Then instinct took over.
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