At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel. " "You did right," returned Trenchard. "Flying fish. Softly she rose to her feet. But—Miss Pellissier!” “Well?” “Are you quite sure that you want us this evening? Wouldn’t you rather be alone? Just say the word, and we’ll clear out like a shot. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father.
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