"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. “We must go. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. They were delighted. "Mr. "It was given me by poor dear Mrs. Farewell. ” He grabbed a sword from the wall of arms. —"Stay! something occurs to me. Not up here, I think. The particulars of her engagement were very clear in her memory. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house.
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