" "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly. "Added to which, she is neither so young as she was, nor, is her temper by any means improved—hem!" "Say no more on the subject, Sir," observed the stranger, gravely; "but let us turn to a more agreeable one—her daughter. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. Sheppard's weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months.
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