“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. "No offence, I hope, my dear Mrs. "I shall want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usquebaugh. It was cramped even at the end of the passage. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. ” He fumed. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super. " In this temper, it will naturally be imagined, that Mrs. He strangled the infant, which slipped out of his hands and screamed.
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