The thing is done. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. ‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names. " "I was educated in America. ” “Shirts?” “Shirts at one—and—something a dozen.
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