"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Then he paused. I hated him. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. But oh, how weary I am! I know. I'll think no more about her. ” She replied weakly. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. ’ ‘Don’t be stuffy, Hilary,’ admonished his betrothed. . Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. She was the type that people of every age gravitated to, naturally affable and kind to everyone. A brisk talk sprang up between Capes and Mr.
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