" "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. ” “Your sister,” he answered, “did me the honour of dining with me last night. Kneebone said, just now. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast.
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