“If you come a step nearer to me,” she said, “I will smash every glass on this table. It’s only as if I’d begun to know you the day before yesterday or there-abouts. "I was afraid it would be so. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. ‘Tchah! So you’re the whelp’s girl, are you? Suppose you’ve nothing but that villainous French in your tongue. . I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion.
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