Old Lancashire families both. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. I suppose you have come to see your granddaughter. "How goes it?" he began, heartily.
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