Some years after the date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed at the top of the Gate, with the view of purifying the prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and constantly-crowded state, was never free from that dreadful and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the jail-fever. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. “I think everything’s right,” said Ann Veronica, with the roaming eye of a capable but not devoted house-mistress. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. Wood—and after him came his daughter. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. ‘It needs not that you tell me. “I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled myself. I am certainly no ghost. ” “Sure thing, kid. That's well. ‘Help yourself, Hilary.
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