“I think everything’s right,” said Ann Veronica, with the roaming eye of a capable but not devoted house-mistress. Her lips parted, but no words came. While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer, a deep, manly voice was heard chanting—as if in contempt of the general uproar—the following strain:— With pipe and punch upon the board, And smiling nymphs around us; No tavern could more mirth afford Than old Saint Giles's round-house! The round-house! the round-house! The jolly—jolly round-house! "The jolly, jolly round-house!" chorussed Sheppard, as the last bar yielded to his efforts. It was Martin, she could hear his heart beat. ” “It would be very kind of you,” she declared. “It has been a delightful evening for me. Then, naturally, I went on talking.
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