Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. She raised this with the air of a conspirator unmasking, and displayed a tear-flushed face. Sheppard, after a brief pause, during which she appeared overcome by her feelings,—she said, gently disengaging herself from the young girl's embrace, and speaking in a firm voice, "you must dissuade your father from this step. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. Oh dear!—oh dear! Be careful of him," she added to her husband, "and get it over quickly, or never expect to see me again.
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