” Lucy grew hot. “We have to get in, I think,” said a nice little old lady in a bonnet to Ann Veronica, speaking with a voice that quavered a little. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. ” Ennison thought so too half an hour later, when having cut out from one of the bridge tables he settled down for a chat with Annabel. Do sit down, dear boy. Thought she was a nun at first. I'm used to insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to both; but I'm not used to compassion, and know not how to take it. It wasn’t pretty. But of course the money will not be refunded.
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