He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. " "Yon ask impossibilities," replied Jonathan, sullenly. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. “Why did I ever take that loan? An idiot girl in an asylum would have known better than that! “Vulgarity of soul and innocence of mind—the worst of all conceivable combinations. “The little English girl is very fortunate. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. "You are all right?"—anxiously.
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