“MY DEAR VERONICA,—Your aunt tells me you have involved yourself in some arrangement with the Widgett girls about a Fancy Dress Ball in London. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. "That's a glorious reward. " Ah Cum went directly to the telegraph office, and his message was devoted particularly to a description of The Tigress. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. With this view, he descended the hill and presently found a footpath leading to the church. I'm about to ring for supper. Bullding,” she declared.
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