” “Perhaps you remember me, Miss Pellissier,” the second young man interposed. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. Mrs. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. But if you mean to take me to this Gérard, I shall know what to say to him. Some friends who saw us dining together persist in alluding to her as Miss Annabel Pellissier. Yes—as he would have liked. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. Anyhow, now you’ve begun it, there’s nothing to keep us in all this from being the best friends in the world. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. " And he raised it in his arms. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood.
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