The occasion of all this confusion and dismay, meanwhile, remained perfectly motionless; his figure erect, and with somewhat of dignity in his demeanour. If only he had known it, sympathy was almost entirely with him. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner. "In wine there is truth. “I had those beautiful roses from you on my first night, and a tiny little note but no address. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. Anna said nothing. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living.
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