But I’m going to-day. There is worse to come. . "Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. 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. ’ ‘Ah, non?’ Her voice was neutral. “There is no remedy, girls,” she began, breathlessly, “except the Vote. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you. I shall still wear your favor—even if it is a stolen and forbidden favor—in my casque. "Here's the door. .
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