" "Right," answered Ireton. " "No. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. Winifred's features would have been pretty, for they were regular and delicately formed, if they had not been slightly marked by the small-pox;—a disorder, that sometimes spares more than it destroys, and imparts an expression to be sought for in vain in the smoothest complexion. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. For some days we shall be very idle there among the trees and rocks. I won't keep you long. “Very likely. I never saw a man who wasn't.
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