"Poor Mrs. 1. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’. She could even think of what had happened. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. “You see, Vee,” said Mrs. Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. CHAPTER III. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. ’ ‘Nonsense, it’ll give Pottiswick something genuine to complain about,’ said Gerald cheerfully, moving to the edge of the trees. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done.
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