The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. The raising of twenty-five pounds was a task altogether beyond her powers. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. . “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. "Again," cried Jonathan, sternly: "beware!" "What!" vociferated Trenchard. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. ’ ‘That is what you think? Let us try!’ ‘Don’t be idiotic!’ She was backing from him, reaching through one of the slits she had carefully manufactured in her petticoat. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole; and a moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no discredit to the oldest dragoon in the King's service. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid.
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