A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. “Was he really?” She asked, waiting on baited breath. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. " "You have always spoken it?" "Yes; except for some native. He had grabbed a tiny remote control and flew the thing around the table, landing it there and turning it off. Courtlaw—Lady Mackinnor. S.
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