“I say!” he cried. " "Let me have a glass of brandy," said he, addressing the host. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. They were sitting alone, Lucy. But if Misther Wild were to find out that I thwarted his schames——" "I'd not be in your skin for a trifle," interrupted Quilt, who having secured Sheppard, and delivered him to Abraham, now approached them unawares; "and it shan't be my fault if he don't hear of it. "So endeth the first lesson," he said. We struggle against it at first, but in the end we have to submit. “Will you come this way,” she said, “into the drawing-room? There is no one there just now. Without her, it was lonely. .
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