repeated the

words after Miss Pross, like somebody at church.

“I am glad you have so much of the Englishman in you, though

I wish you had never taken that cold in your voice,” said Miss

Pross, approvingly. “But the question, Doctor Manette. Is there”

it was the good creature’s way to affect to make light of anything

that was a great anxiety with them all, and to come at it in this

chance manner“is there any prospect yet, of our getting out of

this place?”

“I fear not yet. It would be dangerous for Charles yet.”

“Heigh-ho-hum!” said Miss Pross, cheerfully repressing a sigh

as she glanced at her darling’s golden hair in the light of the fire,

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“then we must have patience and wait; that’s all. We must hold up

our heads and fight low, as my brother Solomon used to say. Now,

Mr. Cruncher!Don’t you move, Ladybird!”

They went out, leaving Lucie, and her husband, her father and

the child, by a bright fire. Mr. Lorry was expected back presently

from the Banking House. Miss Pross had lighted the lamp, but had

put it aside in a corner, that they might enjoy the fire-light

undisturbed. Little Lucie sat by her grandfather with her hands

clasped through his arm: and he, in a tone not rising much above a

whisper, began to tell her a story of a great and powerful Fairy

who had opened a prison wall and