Lord bless you marm! we sees plenty on 'em in our purfession. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. Now then, missie—’ ‘Bon,’ said Melusine, interrupting him without ceremony, and paying no attention to the muskets that were pointing at her from two directions. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. “I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed.
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