" "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. . She pulled the trigger. ‘To the contrary, I will have you to know something. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. Grudgingly he admired her.
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