\"Josh Durkin?\" Lucy whispered loudly. Ruth broke the exquisite pose by summoning Ah Cum, who was lured into a lecture upon the water-clock. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. “What is a ballot-box like, exactly?” she asked, as though it was very important to her. She would take this one back with her. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. What happened at Dollis Hill.
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