“We don’t let to ladies,” they said. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. Ann Veronica had got quite interested in Mr. Too many. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created. What had actually beaten him was not to have known if someone had picked up his trail. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back. Into this hole in the wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, when the stream mysteriously ceased. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly.
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