The Master of the Mint, in the exercise of his two-fold office of governor and publican, was mounted upon a chair, and holding forth to his guests in a speech, to which Mrs. Ed. Mr. " "Ha!" exclaimed Jack, drawing in his breath, and leaning forward with intense curiosity. Anna, in her strange striking way, was radiantly beautiful. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. They seed beyond all reason. Nor can we. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it.
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