“How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. Hanging on the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a lotus blossom with stem and leaves—deadly as a club. In this state it would have been all over with him, as, being stunned by the fall, it was some moments before he could recover himself, if another party had not unexpectedly come to his rescue. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. In regard to yourself, you've had a very narrow escape. Last night Mr. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother.
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