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"Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. “Not a bit. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. Pitt, the governor, a tall pompous personage, who, in his turn, ushered in four other individuals. “His back was towards me,” Anna said. “And if I were you I would keep away from the fire. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch. Then he paused. ” She thanked him with one of her shy little glances. "He stands before you," rejoined her son. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. .
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