Chapter 25 LITTLE GEORGIE.

As ivy clingeth round a ruin,

Still green within the darkest cleft,

The human soul in its undoing

Has still some lingering virtue left.

Julia slept little during the night. The state of nervous terror in which she had been thrown, the shrinking dread which made her quail and tremble at the approach of her fellow prisoners-even the rude

            
            

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