With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. “Lucy Albert, sir. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. ” “Many other people,” she remarked, “have made the same mistake.
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