Her answer was not quite ready. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. ” “But, my dear Peter!” said Miss Stanley. But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her.
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