“You really couldn’t ride in it,” he said, deprecatingly. Anna sprang to her feet with a startled cry. \" Mike retorted churlishly. She is, in her way, a dear. I’ll have to think of something else. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. "Begone! or I fire!" he cried. ‘Naturally I had to come,’ confirmed the lively blonde, her eyes twinkling up at Alderley. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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