“Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. “I am lonely. The arrival of la tante Prudence late next day had changed all this, it is true. There was no longer any risk in association with her. Until then we mean to keep on hammering away. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. ” “To bad rubbish. Bodies! Bodies! Horrible things! We are souls. That is quite as far as I mean to tempt Providence to-night.
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