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It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. 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. ‘I can’t help but be sure,’ he returned shortly. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. Without you, we might have had some trouble. ” “You, then,” he said, “are ‘Alcide. ‘You are not sympathique in the very least. ” She leaned against the back wall of the place, sinking slowly. "You," answered Jack, abruptly.
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