How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. It’s my other side of the moon. " With this assurance, and at the reiterated request of Thames, the little girl reluctantly withdrew. But she did not speak. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. " O'Higgins threw out his chest, gave it a pat, and smiled.
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