E. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. Down on me luck, I was, and they took me in. “Then I don’t take this as final. I suppose you will think me very unsisterly and cold-hearted, but there are circumstances in connexion with my sister’s latest exploit which are intensely irritating both to my husband and to myself. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. ‘Here you, Pottiswick.
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