" "And I will, if I can, depend upon it," answered Sheppard, with a laugh. ” “I’ve told you,” he said. "I yield to fate. ’ ‘Begging your pardon, miss, but I think as how you ought to go back to London,’ Jack ventured. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. “Lots of ‘em!” Capes chuckled. The young lady saw the change, and almost snorted. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions. .
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