‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. From the first I could see that neither believed my story. They stood for a moment in the passage and listened. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. I'd like to shake you until your bones rattled; but the bones of a Roundhead wouldn't rattle to any purpose. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father. ‘And all to help me. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. "If things had gone smoothly," he thought, "I should have cursed the fellow's stupidity. Quilt was not long in following his example. "And there you're right, you may dipind, marm," observed Terence.
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