To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. . ’ ‘I don’t know that there is so much to tell. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. During all this time, he had never quitted the iron bar, and he now grasped it with the firm determination of selling his life dearly, if he met with any opposition. I don’t suppose a girl can tell if a man is in love with her or not in love with her. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. "Well?" he whispered. " "Willingly," replied Wild.
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