“MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. "You have saved his life," replied Blueskin. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. His hair flew out from the sides of his head like black bats from a belfry, it was unruly and long. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue.
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