"I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. "My servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears,— and hands, if need be,—but no tongues. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. “I wonder if there are any good women really. I ought to be able to think things out. Mr.
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