The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself, resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. In all her life no living thing had had to depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat. Melusine made no reply. Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper. He hated travelling second-class with her—indeed, he never did—but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. "Good bye!" cried Jack, as if taking leave of his mistresses, "to-morrow, at the same time.
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