A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. It had gone with the rest. ’ ‘Yes, well, I was too young to see it,’ the captain said, tying a knot in his makeshift bandage. —'They have,' says he. “Please forgive me. " "Tell him so, and have done with him, Sir Rowland," observed Jonathan coldly. "No!" she cried. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. “They have no plans for us.
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