"I've waited supper, you perceive. Barring that the Valade fellow had sneaked back. “What’s that young lady’s name—girl in dark brown, stranger here?” Mr. Then he put the paper by. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. Why?" "I was just wondering. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all.
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