" "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. I don’t know. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. How much Mary knew is a mystery. ‘That is a matter for the lawyers. Your father has forbidden you to go!’” “Well?” “She said, ‘I hate being horrid to you and father, but I feel it my duty to go to that ball!’” “Felt it her duty!” “‘Very well,’ I said, ‘then I wash my hands of the whole business. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. Shot him, do you hear?” “Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day. "Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped.
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