There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. "He never let me keep a dog or a cat about the house. " "They're lifting her out of the carriage," interposed Charcam; "will it please your honour to send for some advice and the chaplain?" "Fly for both," returned Sir Rowland, in a tone of bitter anguish. “My God!” and ceased to move. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. They had changed identities absolutely. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. Have the goodness to affix your name to that memorandum, Sir Rowland. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. I might have known it. Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand. It was just upon the stroke of nine as he entered the Lodge, and Mr.
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