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 sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. But about dat jonker," he continued, lowering his voice; "have you anything to add consarnin' him? It's almosht a pity to put him onder de water. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. She smiled and started for the stairs without reply. " "Very well. ‘For that, I must conceal that I also have enjoyed the kiss. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. " The phrase was new, but Ruth nodded understandingly. Such a mystery as you have set up.
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