The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. Oh! that I should have nursed such a viper!" "Hear me, Sir," said Jack. This was his humiliation as well as hers. With a curt command to her cavalier to get up on the box and give the direction to the interested coachman, he jumped in beside the girl and shut them both into privacy. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. " "Have you seen him?" asked Trenchard. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face.
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