My father thought the latter. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. "What the devil are you howling about?" cried Langley. " Meanwhile, the party at the table continued drinking and chatting as merrily as before.
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