" The answer to this request was a "smack" of a very different description, bestowed upon Sheppard's outstretched face by the little damsel, as she ran out of the room. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. . “Limp,” he answered. "Oh, easily enough," rejoined the other. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. “I suppose Paris is very, very distracting. So Monday, when I see one of the maids come out with a basket, for to go fetch summat for that other Frenchie—the female as I told you about, miss, as is forever coming and going with the nobs. ’ He sighed, spread his hands quite in her own manner, and fluttered his lashes.
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